Just Believe
by NekuTheNuzlocke
Summary: Teen Wolf AU. Stiles and his friends are about to start their senior year, their last year, of high school. All he wants is to create the best literary magazine he and his fellow writers can for their class and get into a good school. He didn't expect the man in the Camaro who nearly hit him to change what he thought his last year of high school would be like. Sterek.
1. Chapter 1

_**September 2013**_

"You have to be kidding me," Stiles said, nearly growling out of frustration.

"What is it? Did you accidentally hit nudes on Tumblr again?" Scott replied, a half grin already forming on his face.

The two boys were sitting at a table in a cafe. It was 12 p.m., and the two had met up to work on their papers for their summer reading before school started the following Monday.

"No, I wish," Stiles replied. "I just got a text Lydia. Apparently, my lovely co-Editor-in-Chief decided to schedule a meeting with the other seniors to discuss the literary magazine for our writing class. Without notifying me."

"Wait, you're not leaving, are you?" Scott asked, an expression of distraught overtaking his face. "But I need help on this paper, man. We both agreed."

"I know, I know. And I'll be back after the meeting, I promise," Stiles replied, starting to pack his things. "But I can't miss this meeting. Well, anymore than I already have."

Stiles had put away all of his belongings when Scott began to groan.

"Well, at least try and hurry," Scott pleaded. "I don't know if I can really finish this paper about Pride & Prejudice. It was so boring."

"We both know you love the book. You made me marathon The Lizzie Bennet Diaries with you. Write your paper, I'll be back soon, bro," Stiles replied, to which Scott smiled again and rolled his eyes.

* * *

"Look who finally showed up," a voice, a familiar, despicable voice stated, as Stiles walked into the classroom. At the origin of the sound, standing in the front of the room, was his co-Editor, Aiden.

"Yeah, wonder why that would be," Stiles muttered under his breath. 'Ass.'

Stiles hadn't known Aiden for that long. He and his twin brother transferred to their high school at the beginning of their Junior year. And yet, as soon he arrived, Stiles immediately grew to despise the boy.

Aiden had a crush on Lydia when he first started school here, and to try and get closer to her, he started moving his schedule around and taking the same classes Lydia was. Stiles wasn't even sure how he managed that, though he guessed it involved his arrogance and conceited nature and inability to not flirt with any moving woman.

Stiles had never been so grateful for Jackson's presence when he returned from his trip to England. Lydia had used Aiden to make Jackson jealous, and it worked. They got back together immediately, and Stiles was happy. He had a thing once for Lydia, but when he saw how happy she was with Jackson, he realized that he wanted her to be happy above everything else, and soon, his feelings melted away.

He also helped get Lydia and Jackson back together, since the idea of her being with the trainwreck that was Aiden made him gag. He knew Aiden knew about it, and he figured that was where their real hostility for each other had started.

Stiles hated him even more for Aiden becoming his co-Editor for their writing class' literary magazine when Aiden hadn't even cared about writing and only wanted to be with Lydia. Only now that Lydia wasn't an option, Aiden seemed to cling to writing and was, unfortunately, pretty good.

Stiles wondered if it was only to spite him.

"You almost missed a very important meeting, you know, but it's so good you could make it," Aiden said. "We're discussing themes today."

"Wonderful," Stiles replied, a fake smile on his face. Leave it to Aiden to take the joy out of making a literary magazine with his fellow senior writers. Stiles set his stuff at a table by Lydia, who smiled reassuringly at him, and he nodded. He then walked to the front of the room to join Aiden.

"Alrighty, let's hear everyone's ideas," Stiles said, rubbing his hands together and smiling at his fellow classmates.

* * *

"Is it wrong to say I hate him?" Stiles confessed to Lydia once they were the only ones left in the classroom.

"You can't hate him, Stiles," Lydia replied, simply shaking her head.

"Why not? He's pompous, he's rude, he's a control-freak, and he has this weird beady eye look, like he's some weird wolf on the prowl."

"If I didn't know who we were talking about, I would swear you meant Jackson," Lydia replied with a faint smile.

"Oh please, Jackson may be an ass sometimes-"

"Love the use of present tense and not past."

"-but he was never and is never as bad as Aiden. He shouldn't even be here! Why couldn't it have been his brother instead of him. There's a reason they have the saying 'good twin and evil twin'," Stiles replied, sighing.

"Look, not that I want to give him more credit than he's worth, but he's trying to get under your skin, Stiles. And you're letting him. Just ignore him. Or I could always have Jackson threaten him."

"I appreciate the offer, but I'd rather not have your boyfriend fight my battles for me," Stiles said, gathering papers and stacking them neatly into a pile. He placed them in his backpack carefully.

"We could always have Allison go get her crossbow and shoot him," Lydia said nonchalantly. Stiles' head jerked up to stare at her immediately with an look of awe. "I was joking. Can you really see Allison using that crossbow on someone?"

"No, I guess not," Stiles replied. Once he had everything he needed, he looked at the time on his phone, and saw that it was 4:12. He also had several missed texts from Scott, one of which read "I hope you find your Mr. Darcy."

Stiles felt like he should have been offended, but the idea of being cast as Elizabeth Bennet in any sense was enough of a compliment to overpower the insult.

The duo were about to leave the classroom, when Ms. Blake appeared on the doorway, slightly out of breath. Stiles wonder if she had ran down the hall to get to the classroom before they left.

"Ms. Blake, what are you doing here? I thought you had a meeting?" Stiles asked.

"Just got out of it. I came back here because I nearly forgot my phone charger. That would have been pretty stupid of me," Ms. Blake replied, chuckling.

"What was your meeting for, Ms. Blake? From what I could tell, there wasn't any other faculty here, other than the janitors," Lydia replied.

"Well, a few of the other teachers were getting TAs for their classes, so I was meeting one for an interview to join us in our class," Ms. Blake replied.

"TA? Wait, like a teacher's assistant?" Stiles asked.

"Looks like the school is letting students from the university nearby in as TAs. If only I were single," Lydia muttered, shaking her head and sighing wistfully. "Oh well," she said, and followed it up with a smile.

Once Ms. Blake had what she needed, the three left, and each went their separate ways in the parking lot.

Stiles was walking toward his jeep, taking just a second to send a text to Scott that he was on his way, when he felt a car rushing toward him. He froze and saw the back of a black Camaro just inches from him as it began to turn. Stiles looked into the window on the passenger's side as the car continued turning, and saw a man.

He couldn't be that much older than Stiles. Maybe even early twenties, at most. His face wasn't entirely visible, since he was wearing black shades and had a bit of scruff, but just from the outline of the man's face, Stiles could tell he was attractive. It didn't help he had a leather jacket.

The man just barely registered Stiles' presence and looked at him with no readable emotions on his face.

"You should watch were you're going, kid," the man said, before he turned back to the road and drove off in a hurry.

Attractive or not, Stiles already knew the guy was an ass, and in no way his type, no matter how cute he may be.

Returning from his thoughts, Stiles regained his composure and walked toward his Jeep that was on the other side of the parking lot.

Why was it always his duty in the world to deal with asses?


	2. Chapter 2

_**September 2013**_

It was just one of those nights.

Stiles sat at his desk, staring directly at his laptop screen as the words began to flow out of him. It was Sunday night, and while Stiles knew he should be sleeping, he couldn't. Not while this idea was rattling his brain. That's just how it worked for him.

Sometimes, he wondered if he let his inspiration, his need to write everything he thought could work down, was insane. Everybody in his writing class was serious about writing, there was no doubt about that, even if it wasn't the profession they were going to go to college for.

And yet, all of his friends in the class, and sometimes even Ms. Blake, were surprised by just how much of his time was consumed by him simply trying to tell a story through words. He wrote and wrote and wrote, and while maybe not all of his ideas were ever finished, he would at least start it, get something down, even if it was word vomit.

Last year alone, he had written over sixty pieces. Some were poetry; some were prose; some were scripts; some were excerpts from a novel idea he had.

And yet, maybe about a third of what he wrote was what was actually assigned to him in class.

Stiles tried his best to maintain a good grade point average. He wasn't trying to get into the fanciest school ever, and he really didn't mind where he got in as long as it was a good school and he could continue writing. That was where most of his free time went, excluding hanging out with his friends or reading or playing video games for inspiration.

When he had first started to get so engrossed in writing, he remembered that his father was a little worried about him. After all, he used to do it as a hobby before his mom died, but when she passed, it was like one of the things in him that had changed made him want to do this as a career, as more than just something to do to pass the time.

That was why, on this Sunday night at 12:43 a.m., when he should be sleeping, he was up, sitting at his desk, writing.

It wasn't until finally, somewhere around 2 a.m., when he heard his father get home from work, that he quickly saved his work, shut off his laptop, and jumped into bed.

He could feel his dreams that night stirring his inspiration further.

* * *

"Please don't tell me you were up all night again," Scott asked as he got into the jeep, seeing the vague lines under his friend's tired eyes.

"If I say no, does that mean I don't get that coffee?" Stiles asked, pointing at the disposable cup his best friend held in his hand.

"Even if it was a no, my mom still wants me to give these to you. She thinks your lines under your eyes are from doing actual schoolwork," Scott replied, rolling his eyes.

"Your mom is the best," Stiles replied, taking the cup from Scott, and taking a nice sip. "And of course, she always makes my favorite."

"Not like you really ever drink anything else," Scott said, and threw his backpack next to Stiles' on the backseat.

"So, how you feeling? For the first day of our senior year, which is coincidentally our last first day of high school."

"Scared," Scott said, a nervous smile on his face. "This is the beginning of the end."

"And here I thought maybe I'd be able to be the one with the pessimistic take on this."

"I don't mean it like that," Scott replied, chuckling a little. "It's just, well, after high school, this will all be over. We'll be out in the real world. No more handholding, no more being able to pick and choose what we want to do and have to do."

"You don't really think it's that bad, do you?" Stiles replied, pulling away from Scott's house and driving toward the school.

"It's not bad, but it's different, you know? It'll be a lot harder, and yet, I feel like everything good that happens then will be that much better, you know? It's different, and we'll have a ot more to worry about, but at the same time, the things that make us happy will be a lot more special. It balances out."

"It sounds like you've been hanging out with your boss Deaton a little too much," Stiles replied with a mocking grin.

"He's right, though," Scott said, still smiling, a little lost in thought. "Things will change, for better or worse. I guess that's another reason I'm so worried for what I'll be like once we graduate. That, and well, I'm also worried about me and Kira, you know?"

"Realistically, you odds of you two staying together are pretty low," Stiles replied. "And yet, I can still picture the two of you in ten years with a white picket fence and a husky."

"That's actually pretty reassuring man, thanks," Scott replied, and they fist-bumped.

"I guess there's still one thing we do have to make happen before this year is over," Scott replied.

"If you don't say 'senior prank' and 'Coach Finstock' in the same sentence, I'm throwing you out of this car," Stiles replied.

"Yeah yeah," Scott said, ignoring the comment. "What I meant was, we need to get you someone."

Stiles nearly veered off the road from surprise, but luckily, there didn't seem to be any traffic at the moment.

"Why is that a priority?" Stiles asked.

"Because, you haven't exactly had a good track record as of late. You crushed on Lydia for practically our whole lives, then went out with Erica for awhile before she moved, then went out with Danny a few times in-between him breaking up with his ex and then getting with Ethan, and then finally we have the Heather Disaster of 2013."

"First of all, I would consider that a good record for me. And secondly, it wasn't that much of a disaster."

"She slept with you so she wouldn't be a virgin and then wanted nothing to do with you afterwards."

"What can I say? I have a way with women," Stiles replied, waving his hand in the air dramatically.

"My point is, you deserve someone to hang out with man. Well, I mean, in ways we can't hang out. Or at least, someone to give you some action," Scott replied.

"This sounds like a really bad plot for a Dave Franco movie."

"I'll take that as a yes then. Even if it was a no, Lydia told me that you have no choice in the matter."

"What?! Lydia is making decisions for me already?"

"We both are. You have no choice, we are hooking you up with someone before this year ends even if it kills me."

"One could only dream," Stiles muttered under his breath.

* * *

They arrived at school a few minutes before the bell, not worried about having to find parking since majority of those who drove didn't show up until the last second. After they got their backpacks, they got out of the car and began walking through the parking lot toward the main building.

"At least we won't have to worry about boring homeroom advisory periods this year to get our schedules. It's about time our school adapted that style," Stiles replied.

"I have English first," Scott stated. "You?"

"I have the greatest class of all," Stiles replied with a triumphant grin.

"You can call it the greatest class of all when you write something that would leave even Lydia speechless," Scott replied. "Anyway, better head over to class now. Wouldn't want to be late for my first period."

"I'll see you later at Lacrosse practice," Stiles replied as they separated, waving goodbye to each other.

It wasn't until Stiles turned around and continued walking that he saw it.

The Camaro was back, parked and driverless. Stiles groaned. Evidently this meant whoever had been the driver of that car was a new student, and he was definitely not looking forward to that encounter. Another cocky student on campus? He had hoped Jackson and Aiden met the school quota.

Stiles decided to push the thought out of his head immediately, and walked to his writing class. Everyone was already there, and most of the students were catching up with each other about what had happened over their summer. Stiles saw Lydia and Kira sitting together at a table, so he joined them. As soon as he approached them, Lydia made a motion for Kira to be silent and then gave him an innocent smile.

"Please tell me you're not including her in your ridiculous plan with Scott," Stiles replied.

"'Ridiculous plan'? Whatever could that be? I don't get ridiculous ideas, sweetie. When I get an idea, I carry it through," Lydia replied, and Stiles couldn't help shuttering a little. Lydia was scary when she decided to have things her way

"If it helps, Stiles, we all will be helping," Kira said with a smile.

"No, that doesn't," Stiles said as he took his seat. "The fact that 'we all' means that more of you are involved is not good news at all. I have too many other things I have to focus on this year. Like our literary magazine."

Ms. Blake walked into the classroom just as the bell rang, and the sounds of conversation slowly died down as she waited to get everyone's attention.

"Well, I hope you all had a great summer vacation," Ms. Blake began. "Since this period is mostly just juniors and seniors, we can pretty much launch into a nice intro activity for the year, but before that, I want to introduce you all to our TA who will be joining us this year. He's a student studying English and Creative Writing at one of the local universities."

"Looks like we get to finally settle the bets of whether or not this one's a beauty or not," Lydia said, directing her comment moreso at Kira than Stiles.

"I already told you, this school already has several guys running around here that might as well be models. No way are we going to get a TA who is even close to the same quality," Kira replied.

"Get ready to pay up," Lydia said. "Let's just say I have a gift for guessing if someone new will be someone who belongs on the cover of GQ. I made the prediction with Allison. I made the prediction with the twins. I made the prediction with you. I'm never wrong."

The two stopped talking then, redirecting their attention to the front of the class, as Ms. Blake finished a few last minute introductions.

"Anyway, without making this even more drawn out than it is, let's say welcome," Ms. Blake said with a smile, and when she opened the door of the classroom, a man stepped in that made Stiles immediately jerk up.

It was him. Camaro guy.

"Say hello to Mr. Hale."


	3. Chapter 3

_**September 2013**_

Jackson had always been a bit of an ass, everyone knew that. When Scott and Stiles joined the lacrosse team, Jackson was strangely threatened by Scott. That whole summer, Scott and Stiles had trained together, so Stiles wasn't surprised by how well Scott had been able to play.

Somehow, Jackson got the idea in his head that Scott had been taking drugs and enhancements.

Over time, thanks to Lydia, Jackson became less arrogant. Really, Allison was the one to thank. It was because of her that Scott and Stiles had even been acquainted with Lydia much more than they had been before, and through that tie when Scott had dated Allison, the five of them became a group. A bit of a peculiar group, but a group nonetheless.

As time went on, the group got a little bigger. Danny started hanging out with them more because of Jackson, Ethan started hanging out with them since he was dating Danny, and Kira had become a member and later started dating Scott awhile after Scott and Allison broke up.

The point was, Jackson had gone from an ass to a lovable douche. He still had his annoying moments, but overall, Stiles actually liked being around the guy.

Aiden was a different story.

It was like all of the bitchiness that Jackson had been shedding had slowly wrapped itself around the evil twin. He absolutely made Stiles question how someone so rude, annoying, intrusive, and manipulative could exist.

Of the group, Danny and Lydia were the only ones who weren't bothered by his presence. Stiles understand why Danny didn't mind him, and in fact, Aiden seemed to cool his act a little around Danny, which Stiles figured was for Ethan's sake. But regarding Lydia, Stiles guessed she appreciated the attention moreso than his presence. It was incredibly evident that Jackson did not appreciate Aiden in any shape, way or form.

Overall, Stiles had figured he had paid his deeds and debts with having to deal with antagonists. In all honesty, Stiles felt like he was actually owed a form of apology and some form of compensation after all that he had dealt with Aiden for the last year.

Color Stiles surprised when his safe haven, which had already been invaded by the devil himself named Aiden, was now housing yet another asshole. One who had nearly hit him with his car, no less. Aiden may have been a jerk, but at least he had never tried to kill him.

Though if Aiden could get away with it, Stiles wouldn't have put it past him.

This man, Mr. Hale, was definitely easy on the eyes. He had short, styled black hair, blue eyes that Stiles could have sworn were only because of contact lenses with how bright they shone, light stubble and a definite jawline. He was wearing a leather jacket over a white collar shirt and had black slacks on.

If Stiles had met this man under different, less extreme circumstances, he would have found him attractive. Very, very attractive.

But a guy nearly hitting you with his car and proceeding to act like it was your fault can have a bit of a negative effect on how you view that guy on a not hot to hot ratio scale.

Mr. Hale looked around the room, a mixture of looks on his face. He seemed like he was excited, but then again, he also seemed to be scowling, and even a little bored. Once Ms. Blake had said his name, however, he got this cocky grin to the class, and Stiles swore he heard a few of the students swoon.

Yeah, he was definitely another cocky asshole.

It didn't hit Stiles until then that this cocky asshole was supposed to be his teacher in addition to Ms. Blake.

"So, Mr. Hale," Ms. Blake began, "why don't you tell us a few things about yourself."

"You owe me five dollars," Lydia muttered to Kira.

"Well," Mr. Hale began, "I'm a student currently studying at Beacon Hills University. I studied abroad for about a year in South America. I want to be a Writing and English teacher, so I was allowed to be one of the few TAs to come work here under one of the school's teachers. I'll be here all year until when I graduate in Spring."

"This cannot be happening," Stiles muttered to himself.

"I know," Kira started. "Our school must seriously be cursed to be a walking ground for attractive guys."

"I don't know if I would say that's a curse," Lydia replied.

"Before we go any further, I'd like everybody to introduce themselves to Mr. Hale around the room."

And so everyone did. As each person went around the room, Stiles was keeping track of when he was going to be next, seeing who was currently talking and how much longer he had to form a proper reply, when he noticed that Aiden wasn't in this period.

At least Stiles didn't have to deal with two evil spawns in one class period. Then again, Stiles had another writing class at the end of the day, and he knew for sure Aiden would be there. He didn't doubt that Mr. Hale would be there as well. Stiles could only hope the man was taking other classes at the university that would prevent him from being here as often as possible.

Finally, it was his table's turn, and naturally, Lydia stood up first and commanded the attention of the room. She had such a power over people, and Stiles was still confused as to why she hadn't interviewed for the position of co-Editor at the end of junior year along with him.

"My name is Lydia Martin. I'm a fourth year senior, and the editor for prose in the literary magazine. I'll be winning a Fields Medal later in life. I'm kind of a big deal."

After the brief-but-strong introduction, Kira got up next, albeit a little unnerved by how demanding Lydia's had been before hers.

"Uh, my name is Kira Yukimura. I didn't transfer to this school until last year, so I'm barely a second year senior. I'm the editor for poetry. I'm still deciding what I'm planning on going to school for."

Once Kira sat down, all eyes suddenly fell on Stiles. Under different circumstances, he might have felt flattered. In reality, he felt completely suffocated. He struggled to stand up, and when he did, he kept eye contact with Mr. Hale, trying to hold the most defiant expression he could muster.

"My name is Stiles. I'm a fourth year senior, and the co-Editor-in-Chief for the literary magazine. I'm planning on going to school for writing. And uh, one of my newest goals is to teach people how to drive. So, you know, they don't nearly run someone over."

At this last statement, the whole classed seemed confused, and even Ms. Blake had a confused expression on her face. Mr. Hale, however, seemed to be holding that cocky grin he had just earlier again. Stiles was sure now that if he hadn't already recognized him that now he did.

"Well, so long as you're doing that," Mr. Hale began, surprising everyone since he hadn't spoken the entire time, "you might as well teach kids to watch where they're walking so they don't end up in an accident too, huh?"

The room grew silent, and Stiles continued to glare at the man. Nobody was sure what was going on, and even Lydia, who had one of the most intuitive natures, couldn't figure out what it was.

"Thank you, Stiles," Ms. Blake said suddenly with a nervous smile on her face, trying to change the subject. "Well, class, now that we… uh, have that out of the way, let's go over what we have planned then for upcoming events and assignments."

Stiles took his seat, as did Mr. Hale, but as the class went on, Stiles kept making side glances at the man. He didn't seem to notice, focusing on conversations with Ms. Blake or what the current discussion was. Either way, Stiles was sure this man was trouble, and already a huge pain in his ass.

What a wonderful way to start senior year.


	4. Chapter 4

_**September 2013**_

"So, uh, anything you want to tell me?" Scott asked as he and Stiles walked down the hall together.

"Let me guess, Kira already filled you in on the details?" Stiles asked.

"She would have, had she had any details. She was pretty confused by what happened, and from what she told me, I'm not exactly surprised. What happened?"

"Nothing. It was just some awkward exchange, I guess," Stiles said, already wanting to change the subject.

"Dude, you do know who you were talking to, right?" Scott asked, a little dumbfounded.

"I didn't say anything this respectful. I know he's technically a teacher but-"

"No, that's not what I meant. Your TA? I remember him from his last name. That's Derek Hale."

"Derek Hale? Why does that name sound familiar?" Stiles asked, his thoughts beginning to wonder. He was curious as to why that name sounded so familiar. Maybe he had read it in one of his father's case files.

"His family, the Hales, they all burned up in a house fire. Don't you remember? He's, like, only a few years older than us."

"Oh yeah. A lot of people thought he was responsible, but my dad didn't think so," Stiles replied. "He helped the charges get dropped."

"Yeah. How could you have forgotten about that dude? It's not like this town exactly has piles and piles of cases revolving around house fires, murder and headless horsemen."

"Please tell me you're not trying to convince me the headless horseman is a thing," Stiles replied.

"The point is that you had a weird face off with a pyro."

"Like I said, my dad helped get the charges dropped. You don't actually think he did it, do you?"

"Well, no, but I still think you shouldn't fan the flames."

"Please stop with the fire references."

* * *

The rest of Stiles' day went on without incident. His last period of the day also wasn't as bad as he had hoped. Mr. Hale wasn't there, and Stiles found himself relieved. Aiden, of course, was there, but his snark didn't bother Stiles so much, who was concentrating on other things entirely.

Stiles dropped Scott back off at home, who invited him to go out with him and Kira, but Stiles passed. He wasn't going to let himself get trapped into any "Get Stiles Some Action" traps. Besides, he wasn't that bothered by the fact he was single. This was his senior year – as far as he was concerned, dating should be the last thing on his mind.

When he got home, he saw is dad's sheriff car was there as well.

"Hey dad, I'm home," Stiles called as he walked in.

"Great, you're home," he heard his father calling from a different room. "You think you can come here and help me with this?"

"If by 'this' you mean a thousand dollars, then sure," Stiles said, heading for the kitchen. His father was staring at a small shelf on the wall that hadn't been there this morning. Stiles saw a hammer and nails sitting on the counter by it, so he figured his father had just installed it.

"Does this look crooked?" his father asked, seeming very troubled. Stiles looked at the shelf, and it looked fine.

"If it was any straighter, I think it'd be dudebro on reddit," Stiles replied.

"A what?" His dad asked, thoroughly confused.

"It's fine, dad. I think the real question is why do we need this?"

"It's for the spices," his dad replied.

"And again, I ask why we need it. When do we ever cook, let alone need spices?" Stiles asked.

"Stiles-"

"I know, I know, less sass."

"You know, something strange happened the other day," his father began to say.

"Don't tell me – somebody was murdered and now you need my intellect to help solve it," Stiles jested.

"Calm it, Veronica Mars. No," his dad said, and then looked at him with a ludicrous expression. "Why are you so giddy over the possibility of a murder?"

"Because I solve it and then write a New York Times bestseller about it," Stiles replied.

"Anyway, your friend, the pretty redhead – Lydia, is it? – she came in to the station the other day and was sort of… well, it looked like she was investigating all of my men," his dad replied.

"Why would she be at your work? And why would she be assessing whether or not your men are working or playing Jenga?"

"I wondered that myself. I went up to her and asked her what was wrong. I mean, a few of the guys had already noticed, and some of them were getting a little uncomfortable, you know? I asked her why she was there, and she simply replied by asking me which of the 'younger, attractive' men were single. Isn't she with your friend Jackson?"

Stiles understood now why Lydia had been scoping out the men at his father's workplace. He groaned with an exasperated expression.

"Please tell me you told her all of them weren't single," Stiles replied.

"I escorted her out as nicely as possible while reminding her that she was a minor, albeit for a few more months, but still very much underage. I don't think she understood what I meant. She seemed more preoccupied by what she found inside."

"Whatever you do, do not let her back in there. Lydia is cooking up one of her schemes."

* * *

The rest of Stiles' week went by pretty fast. Mr. Hale seemed to be pretty inconsistent about what classes he would be in for the day, but overall, Stiles never had to interact with him. He wanted to keep it that way. The less contact, the better.

Aiden, on the other hand, was a different problem.

That Friday, the seniors were brainstorming ideas for the literary magazine. The first thing they had to decide on for sure was a theme before they made anything else concrete, since they still hadn't decided on that. Everyone was still tossing around ideas.

"What if we do something with being the new millennia kids? I mean, they pretty much call us the selfie, self-entitled generation. Might as well roll with it," Danny suggested.

"Oh please," one of the other seniors replied. "That is totally cliché, and playing into adult hands. Might as well make our magazine about prom while we are at it!"

"Gotta agree with her on this one, Danny," Aiden started. "The idea kind of makes me want to puke."

'Not like you have really come up with anything better,' Stiles thought to himself.

"What about you, Stiles?" Aiden asked, a sneer on his face. "Have you thought up anything?"

Stiles knew better than to give his idea – that is, if he had one. He had spent all of summer thinking of what the literary magazine could be called, what they could do with it, but he couldn't come up with one good idea that he liked. Even if he had, though, now was definitely not the time to share it.

"Eh, you know me," Stiles responded simply, smirking.

"Yeah, I do know you, that's the problem," Aiden replied with a frown. "Well, if you don't have anything worth saying, guess it falls on me to save the day."

"'Save the day'? Um, I wasn't aware that you got to dictate what our theme is," Kira said, rather annoyed.

"Well, it's not as if you have really contributed anything worth noting," Aiden replied.

"Uh, Aiden, you think maybe you could… uh, cut back," Danny said, looking nervously at the boy. Aiden looked at him with a scowl, but quickly sighed and relented.

At least someone could attempt to control Aiden.

By the end of the meeting, only a few people had felt insulted by Aiden, which was better than the usual crowd consensus of him being a jerk. Stiles was still confused as to how Ms. Blake had thought making Aiden co-Editor was a good idea, especially since it only served to inflate his ego.

The bell rang, and soon everyone was packing up and leaving. Stiles was rather relieved that it would be a few more weeks before the seniors would have to start staying after school to go over submissions from the underclassmen and the juniors.

Stiles left the classroom with Lydia, chatting and heading to the parking lot. It wasn't until Stiles' got to his car that he realized he had left his books and a few papers on the desk. He quickly turned around and rushed back to the classroom, hoping Ms. Blake hadn't locked it behind her.

When he got there, however, he saw that the lights were still on and the door was cracked. He walked in and started walking to his desk, when he saw Mr. Hale sitting behind his desk reading a book. Stiles immediately turned away and headed for the table he had been sitting at.

By the time Stiles had finished gathering his stuff, he had been in the room for nearly a minute, putting all his papers in the right folders. He zipped up his backpack and carried his book in his hand. He was near the doorway when he suddenly heard a voice.

"You know you don't have to let him push you around, right?" Mr. Hale said. Stiles turned to look at the man, who was still staring at his book, just as engrossed as before. Today, he was wearing some white fleece sweater that clung tightly to his body, and his scruff had accumulated a little more.

"What're you talking about?" Stiles asked, a little confused. He wondered if perhaps Mr. Hale hadn't been talking to his book and not Stiles. Stiles was sure both would have preferred it that way.

Mr. Hale looked up at Stiles, a bored expression on his face.

"Aiden. You know the one who tries to control all your meetings," Mr. Hale replied. "You guys totally let him just walk all over you."

"We don't let him. That's just how he is. It's better to ignore it. If we acknowledge it, he just gets worse. It's like he feeds off of it."

"Do you really believe ignoring it just makes it go away? You're really serious about that?" Mr. Hale asked, putting a bookmark in his book and setting it on his desk. He was still wearing a bored expression on his face, but Stiles noticed something different in his bright blue eyes.

"It's not like we can do anything about it. Nobody around here really does anything about it," Stiles replied. "Besides, should you really be giving out advice? He may be pretty damn annoying, but at least he hasn't tried to hit me with his car."

"Wow, you really are not going to let that go, are you?" Mr. Hale stated more rhetorically than toward Stiles. He picked up his book and began reading once again, leaving Stiles rather frustrated. He quickly turned away from the man and began to leave again, when he heard something again.

"I'm sorry, by the way."

He wasn't sure why, but those words made him feel just a little better. Stiles left the room after that, a small smirk on his face.


	5. Chapter 5

_**September 2013**_

A few weeks had passed by in the school year. Things had stayed relatively the same.

Aiden was still an ass, but every time he had said something really snippy, Stiles stepped in with something of his own. He could tell it pissed Aiden off, and that was reward enough, but it seemed like Aiden wasn't being as much of a jerk as he could be.

The seniors still hadn't decided on a theme, and while September was barely nearing an end, Stiles knew that they would need a theme soon. Submissions for the literary magazine from the students had already begun, and the pieces were separated depending on people's specific editing job they had been bestowed with. Well, excluding the co-Editors, who were given all of the pieces, since they had no specific genre.

After both the co-Editors and the edits of specific genres were done with their edits, they would compare notes together, and once they reached a verdict on the piece, they would either give it back to the student and interview them over what to change, or they would simply put it in a "No" pile. Occasionally, it would be put in a "Maybe" pile to be looked at later on, to see if they had changed their minds.

Overall, the process was pretty time consuming and involved a lot of thought, especially for Stiles. After all, he had to do all of the pieces unlike any of the others, excluding Aiden.

Scott finally had to convince tiles to take some time off from it and rest, so Scott told Stiles to come over to his house that Friday and that they would have a bro night, just the two of them, like they used to.

Stiles was fine with that. All the other "guys" nights lately had included Jackson, Ethan, Danny and occasionally Aiden. Isaac had been a part of their group for awhile after his father died, but he had moved shortly after. It was nice to get back to basics, to get back to how things had been for years for the two of them.

Scott's mom was working that night, as usual, so it was just Stiles and Scott in the house. They both sat on the couch in the living room and had the TV on some random channel in the background as they got their snacks and comfy spots ready.

"So, what're you up for tonight? Video games, movies, web series-?" Scott began.

"We're not watching Emma Approved," Stiles replied before Scott could suggest it.

Stiles was still surprised by how his friend had taken to Jane Austen. The summer reading for Scott's class had been Pride and Prejudice, while Stiles' summer reading had been The Secret Life of Bees, which he had ended up loving. But the fact that Scott had been captivated by the novel was strange to Stiles. His friend had never been that interested in Victorian England, or "girly books" as some people referred to them.

And yet, Scott was obsessed. As soon as he finished Pride and Prejudice, he watched all the movie and miniseries adaptations he could find. When he found the webseries The Lizzie Bennet Diaries based on the book, he had made Stiles watch it with him. Stiles had liked Pride and Prejudice, but he found he had grown to have a bigger love and appreciation for the webseries after a marathon with Scott.

After that, Scott had read Emma by Jane Austen next, which Stiles later found out was what the film Clueless had been based off of. The same people who had made The Lizzie Bennet Diaries were the same had begun making an adaptation of Emma as well, called Emma Approved, but Stiles refused to watch it. He liked Clueless too much to see anything else based on the same book it was inspired (albeit loosely) on.

"Fine fine," Scott began. "But if that is how it's going to be, we're not watching that show Case Closed."

"Its original name is Detective Conan," Stiles replied.

"Either way, no mystery shows. You get all FBI on me and end up figuring out whatever the killer was up to before the show says it, and you take all the suspense out of it."

"Okay, then what do you suggest we watch?"

"Wanna have a bad movie night?" Scott asked.

"It's like you read my mind," Stiles replied with a smirk. Scott immediately left in a hurry to go grab his stack of terrible movies ranging from Planet of Zombie Strippers to It Came From the Lepus!

* * *

_I hear the whispers in the echoes of my dreams,_

_in the canvas of my mind, trying to break through,_

_to break the reins from which my mind has transcended –_

_but there is a path cut off_

_showing me how little I can comprehend when_

_your lips utter illegitimate tales_

It was one of those nights again.

It was the Saturday after Stiles had spent the night at Scott's for a reprieve. Stiles looked at the poem he had begun writing on his laptop, letting his thoughts flow out, trying to keep the process flowing and get out what he wanted to say before he edited. He didn't like editing preemptively before a piece was done; or, if the piece was rather lengthy, he would wait to sit down, look at it, and edit until it wasn't as fresh in his mind, so that way it would be fresher on his eyes and allow him to carry on with the rest of the piece versus editing constantly and losing interest.

It was a weird process, he supposed. And he did like editing, but on longer pieces, editing was much more tedious, and proved quite troublesome. Sometimes, it caused him to lose the drive he had to finish bigger pieces.

This piece was far from being done, however. Stiles wasn't much of a fan of writing short poems. He did like reading them, and he always was impressed by them, but he personally didn't like writing them. He always felt like it left a lot unsaid, and not in the cool way in which you could make your own assumptions about the piece, but in a way that actually made the piece feel incomplete and leave a desire for a piece that could make sense.

Plus, he was working on this piece for the upcoming performance his writing class was going to put on. The performance wasn't until a few days before the month ended, so it gave him a few days before he had to submit it to Ms. Blake a week beforehand for consideration.

He actually had a number of pieces he was considering to submit, in addition to this poem, but an idea for the poem had entered his head, and now he wanted to see it through and use it for the upcoming performance.

It seemed as if the senior class had become disenchanted with the ideas of performance – that is, except for Stiles and Kira. Stiles was always excited for performing, and he imagined Kira didn't seem worn out by it by now because of the fact she was still pretty new to the class. Everyone else acted like they only wanted to get it over with. Well, except Aiden, who loved the idea of commanding an audience for several minutes.

The fact the others didn't really look forward to it that much didn't bother him, however; he supposed it was justified. Everyone else had been in the program for awhile, and with this being their senior year, a lot of them were more worried about college and ending the year on a high note, and since majority of the class wasn't going to school for writing, it made sense.

As Stiles continued writing, it wasn't until he heard his father come home that he bothered to look at the time. On the weekend, Stiles was allowed to stay up to whatever time he wanted so long as Sunday night he went to sleep by a decent hour (or at least fooled his dad into thinking he had). Even so, his dad still wasn't happy about the prospect of his son becoming a night owl and staying up until 5 a.m. to write.

Then again, Stiles wasn't always happy with the idea of his dad going to work in the morning and coming home at very late hours, pulling inhumanely long shifts, just to make sure all was well at the sheriff department. So he guessed the worry worked the same way for the both of them.

As Stiles looked at the clock, however, he saw it was pretty early – well, early for his dad. It was barely 1 a.m.

His dad came into his room, and Stiles looked up at his father with a nonchalant expression.

"Hey, dad. You're home earl," Stiles replied, curious as to why his father was here.

"Uh, yeah, I suppose I am," his dad replied, and as Stiles looked at him, he thought he saw his father looked rather… flustered. "I thought that you were staying the night at Scott's tonight?"

"Nope, that was yesterday, remember?" Stiles replied. It wasn't that much of a surprise his father mixed up the days like that. After all, the way he worked, Stiles was surprised his father remembered the days of the week enough for his job, let alone if he remembered outside of it.

"Oh… Well then," his father said, looking around awkwardly.

"Is there something wrong?" Stiles asked, looking at his father. The way his father was acting, it seemed quite suspicious, almost like his dad had hoped to have the house alone to himself.

"No, there's nothing wrong," his dad replied, immediately recovering his attitude and picking up his usual aura. "Say, since you're up, you wanna go grab a bite? My treat."

"Technically, even if I was paying for it with the money you give me, it would still be your treat," Stiles replied. "But sure. Just let me finish up this piece I'm working on and I'll meet you in the living room."

"Alright," his father started, "just, uh, let me go run an errand first. I have to go get something that I forgot about until now."

Stiles looked at his clock again just to make sure he had read the time correctly. It was 1:01 a.m.

"You're running an errand at 1:01 a.m.?" Stiles asked.

"I'll be back in a minute, Stiles," his father said, practically ignoring the question, and left his room and went outside. As Stiles heard the car start up again and drive away, Stiles wondered what had been so important that his father needed to do at such a strange time of the night.

* * *

"So, how's school?" his dad asked.

When his dad came back, he and Stiles had gone to a wafflehouse out on the outskirts of Beacon Hills. He and his father had been coming here for years, and quite a number of times at odd hours like this. The workers there had learned to expect them as customers every now and again, so they were always friendly to Stiles and his father and never questioned why he had his son out at such late hours. Stiles guessed it was because they knew his dad was also the sheriff.

"Oh, you know, the same," Stiles said as he cut off a piece of his pancake and stuffed it in his mouth.

"That's all I get? Just 'the same'? Come on, Stiles, it's your senior year before college. I was expecting something a little more groundbreaking than that," his dad replied well naturedly. Stiles couldn't help but notice how good of a mood his father was in tonight.

"Well, I'm pretty much acing all my classes, Stiles-style."

"Sometimes I wish you would try harder, but I know there is no point in pushing you that hard. You practically spend all your time on that damn laptop writing. At least I know when you sell your first book that you'll make millions, or however much writers make when their books become famous like that Green guy you like."

"John, dad. It's John Green," Stiles replied.

"If you ask me, I think his parents gave him probably one of the most boring names you could ask for. Might as well have picked the Green and put Doe."

"You would know a thing or two about giving kids weird names, huh, dad?" Stiles replied with a smirk. He had his father groan.

"What else is new? Isn't there something going on in your writing class? I know you have that literary magazine thing."

"That is pretty much touch and go at this point. I'd like to say we are making a lot of progress but I feel like every meeting we are having lately is practically a filibuster. Specifically when Aiden starts to talk."

"Is he the one dating your friend Danny? The one you dated?"

"No, Aiden is the evil twin-brother of the one who dates Danny. He has a pitchfork, devil horns and fiery background to go with the territory," Stiles replied. "Other than that, the class is pretty much the same. Well, other than the TA we have now."

"Oh? That must be nice for Ms. Blake. I imagine she could put all her grunt work off on whatever poor soul that is."

"His name is Mr. Hale. He's… well, he's good at his job, I guess. I haven't seen any of his writing. No one has. And he is rocking the biker look from the 80s and 90s that makes people swoon. He seems like a total tool."

His dad nearly spit out his coffee midway through Stiles' response, trying to process what his son said.

"Hale? As in Derek Hale?" his dad asked.

"Yep, the one and only," Stiles replied, then realized what he said. "Wait, that came out a little darker than I meant it to."

"He's not the only Hale. He still has an uncle living who-knows-where, and I heard when he went to study abroad, he ended up finding a missing relative. Someone named Cora."

"It sounds like you've been following up on what he's been doing this whole time, dad," Sile replied, curious.

"Well yeah," his dad started, as his expression turned to one of sadness. "I've dealt with a lot of cases, and while some may go unsolved because we just have no evidence, the Hale fire haunts me the most. Nearly his entire family burned alive, Stiles, and it wasn't an accident. The only problem is, we never found who started the fire. We questioned both Derek and his uncle, but neither was responsible, even though a lot of the town originally seemed to think Derek caused it.

"It just makes me wonder if I've done my job well enough sometimes. The poor kid lost nearly everyone. I mean, he seems to have made something of himself, and the town isn't so brainwashed anymore to believe he's a killer or an arsonist, but that doesn't mean his life is any easier. If I had caught the killer, maybe… just maybe things could have been different."

"Dad, you're a good sheriff. You've done so much for the town. You know that, right? The people here love and respect you," Stiles replied. "You are good at what you do. And like you said, some cases can go unsolved. It's terrible, and it means somebody gets away with what they did, but it's not a perfect world. We can't go around righting everybody's wrongs."

There was a moment of silence between them after that, but after that, his dad and him changed the subject and continued eating. When they were done, his father was in happier spirits, and they paid the bill and left a tip behind as they exited the diner and headed home.


	6. Chapter 6

**_September 2013_**

He shut the laptop close, releasing a large sigh of relief and exhaustion.

Tomorrow was the day of the performance for the month, and Stiles had finally finished editing his poem. He had finished it days ago, but once it got selected for the upcoming performance, he workshopped it in class to get critiques.

It was those insights from the class that he applied to his work. Even Aiden had some useful stuff to say about it. There was an unspoken rule between the two of them, and it was that all the building hatred and animosity they had for each other was saved for any time that wasn't workshops. They both acknowledged during those times that the other had talent, and so they would give constructive criticism.

Stiles wished that sometimes that rule to go for meetings with the literary magazine as well, but he knew that would never happen. Since each editor held a large presence over the magazine, ideas and what to have in it were always up for debate and changing, so Aiden didn't see a reason to be constructive about things he hated.

Either way, it was late in the night. He needed sleep. He turned off his lights and threw himself on the bed, not bothering to change or dramatically cover himself up.

* * *

"Not that I need reassurance on this, since you're more or less obligated to come to each of my performances, but you are coming tonight, right?" Stiles asked Scott in the car that morning. Scott and Stiles always rode to school like this, even though Scott had a bike he used to dirtbike he used to drive all the time in junior year until he ended up having a minor accident. Though Scott never said it, Stiles knew that Scott's mom had forbidden Scott from using the dirtbike, or at least, using it often.

"Of course I'm coming. Kira would kill me if I missed one of her performances," Scott replied, smirking as usual.

"Yeah, only Kira, no one else. Not at all."

"At least I enjoy the shows you guys put on," Scott replied. "Jackson has to come every time Lydia is reading, which is every performance, but I swear that he wants to bolt throughout the whole thing when Lydia isn't on stage. I remember he used to leave after she was done reading until she called him out on it one day. Probably would have been worse if Allison hadn't been her ride for that night."

"Speaking of Allison, I haven't really seen much of her lately. What's she doing?" Stiles asked. Scott and Allison may have had an awkward relationship for awhile after the breakup, but now they were just friends with a romantic history that would remain that way. Ever since Scott and Allison broke up, however, Stiles didn't see much of her unless the entire group was hanging out.

"Oh, you know, she's applying for colleges, planning on leaving this place behind, just like Lydia. I think they're actually planning on going to school together and rooming together."

"If Lydia is planning it, then it'll happen," Stiles replied automatically.

"You could say that again," Scott replied with a suspicious chuckle, and Stiles complete attention was now on what Scott was hiding.

"Please tell me that Lydia has broken her code and given up the quest for my 'soulmate'," Stiles pleaded. It had been weeks. He had nearly forgotten about what Lydia had been concocting. He should have known better.

"I'm not allowed to say anything," Scott replied.

"Sometimes I wonder if it was a good idea to have you make friends with Lydia all those years ago so I could have a reason to talk to her."

* * *

The writing class that day was hectic, but in a rather endearing way versus the chaotic, get-me-out-of-here mess it could have been.

Work on the literary magazine was postponed for the day, since all of the students were focused on the upcoming performance. This one, as usual with all of the first performances at the beginning of the school year, was to be on campus. It was always the on campus performances that seemed to take more time to prepare than any of the off campus performances that the students did.

Luckily, it was the last period of the day, which meant that the performance was only a few hours away, and all that was left was setting up the sound equipment, lighting, and concession stands, all of which would not be setup until an hour after school was over so that there was little to no students still hanging around that could get in the way.

Ms. Blake and Danny were talking with a few of the underclassmen about their duties. When it came to the performances, Danny was always the go-to for planning, so Ms. Blake more or less made him the official event organizer.

Lydia was given advertisement due to her popularity and manipulation abilities, the latter being something Ms. Blake would never admit to why she gave Lydia the job.

Other than that, organization of the performers and the program fell onto Ms. Blake, and from what Stiles noticed, now seemed to be a part of Mr. Hale's job duties as well.

It had been awhile since Stiles and Mr. Hale had their awkward confrontation after school in the writing classroom. Stiles wasn't entirely spiteful with the man now. He figured it was because of the apology, and for the lame advice Mr. Hale had given him. The man wasn't entirely that bad. It also didn't help that every time Stiles looked at him, he was reminded of just how good looking the man was.

But so did everyone, whether or not they thought of him as their idea of attractive, they all knew he was attractive in general. It wasn't that bad to acknowledge that, the way Stiles figured. After all, Mr. Hale was a teacher; it wasn't like Stiles was going to ask him out and ask him to have super fun naked time with him at his house while his father was out.

Hell, now that he thought about it as he looked at Mr. Hale, he didn't even know what his sexual preference was. He was friendly with everyone in the classroom enough, but as for personal information of that kind, he kept it to himself, but then again, so did all teachers. So it wasn't that much of a surprise.

That didn't stop a few students from finding excuses to talk to him and lightly flirt with him. Even Danny would harmlessly flirt with him, whether or not he was conscious of it.

Stiles could always ask Lydia. She was a walking radar for sexualities. But Stiles didn't really care enough to ask. Besides, that was Mr. Hale's personal business, and what benefit would Stiles get from the information? If Mr. Hale even had the slightest inclination towards guys, Stiles was still a student and not the kind of person Mr. Hale would want to have as arm candy. That's how Stiles saw it, anyway.

"You're never gonna guess what I heard today," Kira piped up, causing Stiles thoughts to return to his two friends at the table.

"Please tell me that you found out who tore down one of our fliers in the back building. I'm only a few clues away from solving it but I would prefer to get the answer now so I can terrorize the child tomorrow," Lydia began. "I seriously don't understand who the kid thought he was messing with."

"Um, no," Kira replied, bewildered. "I heard that tonight, Mr. Hale is going to be performing with us."

"Can he do that?" Stiles asked. In all the years that he had been taking the writing classes, Ms. Blake had never performed. She rarely ever shared her own writing. It wasn't that much of a stretch to expect the same from Mr. Hale. It's not exactly like that would be the action that made him Mr. Mysterious in a Leather Jacket or Mysterious Camaro Guy.

"It's not like it's against the rules. Do we even have rules against faculty reading at our performances? I mean, the open mic ones, since they can't exactly perform at our events like this."

"Huh. Well, I guess that'll take the fun out of that," Lydia started. "I had a bet going with the class that we wouldn't see any of his writing until the second semester, if even that."

"You losing a bet would be a first," Kira replied, shocked. "You practically collected an entire worth of lifesavings over whether or not Mr. Hale would be attractive from the class."

"What can I say, I'm psychic," Lydia replied with a smug and sarcastic smile.

Stiles' mind began to wander once again, and he had to admit, he was curious to see some of Mr. Hale's writing. There was this weird vibe Stiles got from him, and he wanted to know more about it, know more about Mr. Hale.

He hoped that what Kira had heard was true. He wanted Mr. Hale to perform tonight.


	7. Chapter 7

**_September 2013_**

Everything was in place for the show. It was a few minutes before showtime, and everyone who was in the first act was in their places while the second act performers were working the concessions or overlooking the equipment.

The venue that they were performing on at the school was a small outdoor stage that had been at the school for a couple of decades. Stiles remembered hearing that a theater teacher at the school had paid for it to be built so he could put on several outdoor Shakespeare performances.

That didn't ever happen, however, since he left the school immediately once it became common knowledge that he had been sleeping with the principal's wife. Since then, it had been used here and there, but the idea of outdoor performances wasn't really loved by the several theater teachers that had been at the school since then.

It wasn't until Ms. Blake came to the school during Stiles' freshmen year that it began to be used. In all honesty, it wasn't until Ms. Blake came that the writing class had been gaining the prestige it had. Ms. Blake started making the literary magazine a priority for the seniors, and over her first three years, they had already won two nationwide contests, three statewide contests, and several other recognitions.

Still, even though they typically used the stage for the first performance of the year, and sometimes for one of the open mics, if there was another performance at the school, it was done in the auditorium, which was always the end of the year performance. Open mics were done typically in the classroom.

Stiles wasn't on for the first act, so he was working concessions alongside Kira. She was waving at Scott in the audience, who waved back at her and at Stiles gleefully. Next to him, Stiles saw Jackson, Allison and Ethan.

"Jackson doesn't really like coming to these, does he?" Kira asked once the current customer left to get a seat.

"Jackson doesn't really like a lot of things. I'm pretty sure he hates birthday parties and only has them because Lydia plans them," Stiles replied.

"Well, at least he's a good guy… when you peel back the arrogance," Kira replied. "He treats Lydia well."

"You think he's arrogant now? You should have seen him my sophomore year when we had an actual conversation," Stiles replied. "He's actually a much more pen, toned-down version of himself now."

"Okay, then by that comparison, I get why we all don't talk about his attitude," Kira said.

Finally, Allison's mother showed up at the speaker's podium alongside Ms. Blake. Over halfway through Stiles' sophomore year, Allison's mother ended up taking over the position of Principal. She was always at the opening performances of whatever club, team or class that was holding an event.

She gave her typical introduction speech, talked about how honored she was to have such a talented program at the school, etc. Then, Ms. Blake stepped in and began introducing the first few readers, and would repeat this in-between groups of readers.

The first act seemed to fly by fairly fast. Occasionally, one of the audience members would come to the concession stand to by something to eat or drink, and then they would go back to their spots.

Stiles listened intently to the readers, whether or not he was close with them, like Lydia, or only talked with them a few times, like a freshmen named Mitch.

Once intermission came, Lydia and Danny came over to the concession stand to switch places with Stiles and Kira.

The second act was flying by pretty fast as well, and before Stiles knew it, he was the next to go as Kira stepped on stage.

He could feel this weird jittery feeling surging through his body, and there were goosebumps all along his arms. It was the pre-performing jitters. When he was younger, he thought those feelings would eventually disappear or wane as he got more experienced with talking to groups, and while he didn't get as nervous as he used to, it was only minimally different.

There had been a quote he had seen one day about such feelings that he really liked, but he could never remember where it came from: "If you're not nervous, then the work will never be good. If you're not afraid to express your feelings, then clearly they aren't true."

In what was only seconds in Stiles' mind, Kira finished her piece, and exited the stage. It was now Stiles' turn. He took a deep, calming breath, and strode over to the podium. One here, he looked into the audience, most obscured by the lighting, but he could make out where Scott and his friends were sitting. Scott sat there with a reassuring smile.

Stiles let his body relax in those few seconds, and then began reading:

_"I hear the whispers in the echoes of my dreams,_

_in the canvas of my mind, trying to break through,_

_to break the reins from which my mind has transcended –_

_showing me how little I can comprehend when_

_your lips utters illegitimate tales_

_You find the truth to be something malleable,_

_something you can twist and contort in your hands_

_and your words betray any sense of reality_

_It is here, in my mind,_

_in my soundless world of slumber_

_that you want to cover up the whispers,_

_to cloud my train of thought from doing what I should_

_and what you want me to do_

_But this is not a world in which you can manipulate_

_and I do not find a request worthy from your tasteless lips_

_unless there is a form of quid pro quo_

_and I can unravel you just as you try with me"_

Once he was done, he smiled at the crowd and left the stage, the typical audience applause behind him.

* * *

Since he had finished his reading, the rest of the night went by just the way it had been.

The show was over early by about twenty minutes, to which Stiles saw Jackson nearly rise out from his seat and jump for joy. Although none of the writing class students would be able to leave until everything was put away, and this applied to Jackson since he always took Lydia home, that meant he would have to wait. Usually, he would help out so things could go faster, and he continued that tradition that night.

Everything was put away in about fifteen minutes, and once things started to look finish, majority of the students began to leave. It wasn't until Stiles had finished putting away the sound equipment in the closet in their classroom that he heard the last few students leaving. He hadn't seen his friends leave, but all of them had come with their significant others, so he was sure they sprung up at the thought of leaving as soon as they could.

As Stiles exited the room, he passed by Ms. Blake and Mr. Hale, who were talking together, and Stiles nearly fainted from shock. He saw Mr. Hale laughing. A cocky smile was one thing. A half smirk was pushing it. Actual laughter was unseen and unheard of.

And yet, there he was, laughing with Ms. Blake as they walked over to the room.

"Hey, Ms. Blake," Stiles began, feeling a bit awkward as he slung his backpack over his shoulder, "I got the last of the stuff in the room. I'm heading home now."

"Alright, thank you, Stiles," Ms. Blake replied. "I'm sorry you had to stay so late."

Stiles looked down at his watch. It was barely 9:02 p.m., but he guessed that could be considered late in the 50s.

"No problem, Ms. Blake. I'm just glad I could help," Stiles replied. "See ya Ms. Blake," he started, and then realizing he was nearly forgetting Mr. Hale, added, "see ya Mr. Hale."

The man simply nodded and then turned his attention back to Ms. Blake.

_'Well,'_ thought Stiles,_ 'guess that answers that question about his preferences.'_

* * *

When Stiles got to his jeep and tried to start it, the jeep refused to come on. It only made a weird gurgling noise, and then died afterward. Stiles tried starting it again a few more times after, and the same happened.

He felt thoroughly confused. His car had been running fine until then. The only problem he had was maybe the CD player attached to his radio, and really, CDs were more of a hassle to carry around than an MP3 player and a wire to hook it up to his radio, so it wasn't much of a problem.

Stiles groaned and got out of the jeep, taking his flashlight with him. There was a little bit of light in the parking lot, but only enough to give it a feeling of an ominous scene from a horror movie. No one else was here, either, so it wasn't like he could ask someone for help.

He pulled upon the hood of the jeep as he turned on the flashlight. When he aimed his flashlight at the inside of his jeep, however, he saw a strange sigh, and what he imagined was the cause for his car failure. There was a wire that had been cut, and while Stiles knew practically nothing about cars, it didn't take much to figure that it was the cause for the car failure.

"What the-" Stiles began, nearly wanting to yell. The cut was clearly deliberate. Who the hell would cut some wire in his car so he couldn't use his car? He didn't have any enemies-

_'Oh crap,'_ Stiles thought, figuring it out. He knew exactly who would do this to him.

Stiles began pacing around his car, fuming, trying to calm done. This was low, even for Aiden's standards. There was no one else who could have or would have done this. What was this payback for? For talking back? For not putting up with him anymore?

Stiles was planning on making him pay tomorrow. This was uncalled for.

As Stiles continued pacing, trying to calm down, he took his phone out and was about to call Scott, when he heard a car pulling up next to him. Stiles turned toward where the sound had come from, and saw something he was not expecting in the slightest.

Besides his jeep was a Camaro, and in it, sat Mr. Hale.


	8. Chapter 8

**_September 2013_**

Stiles was too shocked to say anything once he saw the car. The driver's side door opened, and Mr. Hale came out of it, looking at Stiles with a puzzled expression.

"Hey, Stiles. What's wrong with your car?" Mr. Hale asked, moving over toward him and his jeep.

It wasn't until Stiles felt a vibration in his hand that he immediately stopped gawking and recomposed himself. He looked down at his phone and saw Lydia was calling, but he decided to ignore it. Whatever it was, this was a little more important.

"I'm, uh, not exactly sure," Stiles replied. "It wouldn't start, so I opened the hood, and then…"

Stiles motioned toward the cut wire with his flashlight, and Mr. Hale saw it. The man's mouth turned into a scowl, and then he looked at Stiles, a questioning expression on his face.

"I'm guessing that you already know this looks intentional," Mr. Hale stated, more as a fact than a question.

"I'd have to be pretty stupid to think something in my car sliced through that wire like a katana," Stiles replied.

"And I'm guessing you already know who did it, don't you?"

Stiles wasn't sure how he was supposed to respond to that. On one hand, Mr. Hale had seen how Aiden treated not only Stiles, but everyone in the class, but would he believe this was Aiden's handiwork too?

Stiles decided just not to say much of anything.

"Nope. I don't know why someone would do this. Maybe it's a senior prank," Stiles replied, shrugging off the subject. If Mr. Hale was convinced, or if he knew Stiles was lying, it wasn't spelled out on his face.

A moment of awkward silence hung between them, Mr. Hale looking back at the inside of the jeep with a scowl as Stiles awkwardly shuffled his feet.

"Well, whatever happened here, your car isn't going anywhere tonight," Mr. Hale replied. "Whoever did this knew what they were doing. Anyway, I know someone who's a mechanic. I'll ask him to come look at it first chance he gets."

"Alright, well, thanks," Stiles replied. "I guess I'll just start heading home then."

Stiles shut the hood and went to grab his backpack when he felt Mr. Hale following him. Stiles looked back at the man curiously, and he looked exhausted.

"How exactly are you planning on getting home?" Mr. Hale replied.

He wasn't sure. All he had to do was call one of his friends, and he knew they would come for him. And if that wasn't possible, it was more than likely his dad was at his office, so he would drive down here to come get him, however long that would be.

His phone began vibrating in his hand again. He looked down and saw that Lydia was calling again. This was really bad timing.

"Look, just get in the car," Mr. Hale replied when Stiles didn't. "I'll take you home."

Stiles guessed the man took Stiles' hesitance to answer as confirmation that Stiles didn't have a ride back, but before he could try to protest, Mr. Hale had already grabbed Stiles backpack and threw it on the backseat of his car.

'Well… What's the worst that could happen?' Stiles wondered.

Murder. Rape. Torture. There was actually a long list of things that could happen.

Stiles was about to try and protest once again, but was interrupted.

"Get in the car, Stiles," Mr. Hale replied, a commanding tone in his voice.

Stiles decided to chance it. He locked his jeep and walked over to the passenger side of the Camaro and got back in.

* * *

If this were a chapter in his memoir, Stiles wasn't sure what the title would be. He imagined a play on the title Riding in Cars with Boys, or something involving a guy who broods more than a character played by David Boreanaz.

As soon as they pulled out of the parking lot, Mr. Hale asked for directions to Stiles' house. His house wasn't that far from the school, but Stiles was silently hoping for traffic to not be a problem because this car ride was already going to have to be long enough.

"Do you have a curfew, by chance?" Mr. Hale asked Stiles. He was a little thrown by this question. It just wasn't something he expected to hear a teacher say. Well, college-student-as-a-teacher's-assistant to say.

"Um, no. Why?" Stiles asked. "If I go missing, people will be looking for me."

"Do you really think I'm a serial killer?" Mr. Hale asked monotonously. "You practically scurry away every time we are in the same vicinity with each other."

"No offense, but it's not exactly like I know anything about you," Stiles replied. "For all I know, you could be the Zodiac killer."

"I wasn't even alive during those murders. Do you even know when those happened?" Mr. Hale replied, scowling. Stiles was beginning to wonder if this was a regular routine. "Look, I was just going to ask if you mind if we get something to eat. I was planning on getting some food after the performance, but as you can see, my plans didn't exactly go as planned."

Silence.

"Cheap fries," Stiles said.

"What?" Mr. Hale asked, confused.

"I'm a sucker for cheap fries," Stiles relied. "So wherever we go, cheap fries are my thing."

"Alright then," Mr. Hale replied.

* * *

Five minutes later, they were at a chain fast-food restaurant.

"You mind if we eat here?" Stiles asked. "I'm not much of a eat-on-the-go kind of guy unless I absolutely have to."

"That's fine with me. I don't like having food in this car," Mr. Hale replied. Stiles couldn't help but whisper the words "arrogant" in his head.

They walked in and ordered their food, and once they got it, they sat at a small table far at the end of the place. It was pretty dead, and Stiles figured that made sense. It was a little after 9, but nobody was really out at food places in Beacon Hills at this time, and if they were, they went through the drive through.

Stiles was about to begin munching his food when he suddenly looked at what Mr. Hale had ordered. He hadn't bothered to pay attention before, but as he did now, he couldn't help but notice that Mr. Hale had ordered chocolate milk in place of a soft drink.

"So, does a kids meal come with that?" Stiles asked, jesting. Mr. Hale looked up at the boy and glared. Stiles immediately regretted the joke.

"You're a cheap fry kind of guy. I'm a chocolate milk kind of guy," Mr. Hale stated, as a way to end any further discussion on the subject.

The two ate their food for a few minutes in silence. Stiles decided he didn't want to leave the conversation on such a bad note.

"So," Stiles began. "I heard you were going to read tonight, but I noticed you didn't."

"That was a student reading," Mr. Hale replied. "I'm not a student. It wouldn't have made much sense."

"Well, I just figured since you're a part of our class now, you could share and stuff," Stiles replied.

"Are you making a list of things you don't know about me?" Mr. Hale replied.

"Are you keeping track?" Stiles replied with a sarcastic smile.

Silence returned, and the two continued eating.

"I don't like showing people my work," Mr. Hale said suddenly. Stiles looked up at the man immediately, fries stuck halfway in his mouth.

"What?" Stiles asked.

"It's personal, I guess," Mr. Hale replied. "I'm proud of what I write, and one of the things I want to do other than teaching is be a well-established writer. But until then, I like to keep my writing to myself."

"Didn't you have to show Ms. Blake some of your writing to get the position you have?" Stiles asked.

"That's different. It was required. I don't mind sending off my work for magazines or publication or job opportunities. But sharing it for other reasons? I'm not comfortable with that."

Stiles couldn't help but understand what Mr. Hale meant. He was very open about showing pieces he would write, but a lot of the work that he did do, he preferred to keep to himself or hidden until it was up to par with his standards. Sometimes, he would vow not to share it at all because he felt that it was too raw or not seasoned.

"It makes sense," Stiles replied finally. "You shouldn't do anything that makes you vastly uncomfortable. Yet, even still, I like to believe that sharing work is what makes us better as writers, you know? You don't have to share everything, but even just a few pieces, some lines, anything like that; I feel like talking with someone about those things can only help your work."

"Listen to you, giving me advice. Isn't this supposed to be the other way around," Mr. Hale asked. Stiles wasn't sure, but it almost seemed like this was meant to be a jest.

"What can I say? I'm wise beyond my years," Stiles replied.

"The only 'wise' I've heard about you is your ability to stick your nose in where it doesn't belong," Mr. Hale replied, and had a cocky grin on his face. "Of course, I have the same problem."

"Well, if we're so alike, we might as well come up with nicknames for each other," Stiles replied.

"Don't push it," Mr. Hale replied, but he still seemed to be in good spirits.

"Aw, come on. Least you could do is let me call you comrade," Stiles replied.

"Only if I get to call you Roza," Mr. Hale replied with a knowing expression, and Stiles was stunned to find out Mr. Hale knew what he was referencing. Mr. Hale must have read the shock from his face. "Seriously, you don't have to look so surprised. The first _Vampire Academy_ book came out around the time I was your age. It's more of my demographic than yours."

"I guess I'm just surprised," Stiles replied. "I pegged you for a different lit kind of guy."

"What kind then?"

"The boring, snobbish kind who only read 'the classics'."

"I like reading what I read. That's all there is to it. Anybody who shames you for a specific genre is wrong. There's a lot you have to learn about me, Stiles," Mr. Hale replied, still working that cocky grin of his. Stiles couldn't help but continue smiling as well.

It wasn't until his phone began to vibrate again that he snapped out of it. He looked down at his phone and saw, yet again, that Lydia was calling. That was three calls in not even an hour. While Lydia could be calling for something mundane, it could also be something world-ending. Stiles wasn't going to take that chance.

"I'll be right back," he said to Mr. Hale, answering the call and heading quickly outside.

"Stiles!" he heard Lydia yell on the other side of the phone. She sounded concerned. "Why haven't you answered my calls? And where are you?"

"Um, sorry, I was kind of busy," Stiles began. "Wait, what do you mean 'where are you'? Where am I supposed to be?"

"Jackson had to take me back to school because I forgot something, and when we got there, I saw your jeep was still there, and you were nowhere to be seen. I was worried something happened. I knew instinctively to call your dad."

"You didn't call my dad, right?" Stiles asked, now worried. He didn't want to tell his dad about what happened to the jeep. He was going to try to keep this as hush hush as possible.

"No, but only because I knew you weren't dead. You're too stubborn to go that quietly," Lydia began. "Anyway, where are you?!"

"I got a ride," Stiles replied.

"What!? From who?" Lydia asked, a tone of shock in her voice. It was almost like she had been hoping no one had picked him up moreso than him not getting kidnapped.

Stiles was about to tell Lydia that Mr. Hale had given him a ride, but then he wondered if that was such a good idea. Stiles had been skeptical enough as to whether or not Mr. Hale had compromised his professional position by giving him a ride, taking him to get fast food and joking with him like they weren't supposed to have a separation of such interactions with Stiles being a student.

"I just got lucky and hitched a ride with someone I know," Stiles replied.

"Who?!" Lydia asked.

"Greenberg!" Stiles said impulsively. It was a lie, and probably a bad one too, but nonetheless, he needed an out to this conversation. "Look, I gotta go, it's not polite to talk on the phone in a car with people. Bye!"

Stiles hung up fast before Lydia could say one more word. He took a deep breath, and tried to keep himself calm. This wasn't that much of a stress inducer, but he wanted to remain as calm as possible so he wouldn't worry about having a panic attack. He didn't want to go down as that Beacon Hills kid who had a panic attack at your local fast food restaurant.

Once he had recomposed himself, Stiles walked back into the restaurant, and saw that Mr. Hale had finished his food and was now drinking the chocolate milk. Despite the joke Stiles had made about it, he thought it was a rather nice quirk. Besides, chocolate milk was pretty good.

"You ready to go?" Mr. Hale asked him after swallowing down what he had in his mouth. Stiles finished of the last of his fries, and not without noticing that a few were missing. Maybe Mr. Hale was a chocolate milk and cheap fry kind of guy. Either that, or Stiles didn't remember going so crazy on his fries.

They left soon after that, throwing away their wrappers and placing the tray the employee had given them above the trashcan.

* * *

The drive back to Stiles' house wasn't exactly one filled with conversation, but the silence wasn't as uncomfortable as it had been. Mr. Hale didn't like to listen to music in his car; or at least, he didn't want Stiles to know what kind of music he listened to. That was probably a smart move on his part. If Stiles had heard anything remotely like Nicki Minaj, he might burst out laughing and have to reevaluate his thoughts on the uptight, snobby version of Mr. Hale he had come to stereotype him as.

The drive was faster than Stiles had anticipated it being, and he found himself rather disappointed it hadn't lasted longer. Despite the weird events of the night, some upsetting and some rather uncomfortable, he realized this had been… well, sort of fun.

"Well, here we are," Mr. Hale replied, pulling up to the curb. Stiles saw that his dad was not home and felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders. He would handle that can of worms involving the jeep another day.

"Yeah," Stiles replied. "Thanks, for the ride. And for taking a trip for food, even though it was your idea. I needed something unhealthy and greasy in me."

"No problem," Mr. Hale replied, no expression on his face anymore other than the exhaustion from before.

"Alright. I'll see ya tomorrow, Mr. Hale," Stiles replied, and the man simply nodded and turned his face back to the street. Stiles grabbed his backpack from the back and got out of the car with ease. Once he had made it to his door and unlocked it, he finally heard the car drive away, off to wherever it was that Mr. Hale spent his nights.


	9. Chapter 9

**_September 2013_**

On some level, Stiles should have expected something to go wrong. Perhaps if he had even looked at the signs, he would have realized what had really happened that night, instead of simple assumptions.

And because of those assumptions, here he was, sitting in the waiting room, waiting to be seen by Principal Argent. Worst yet, he was sitting next to Aiden, and Ms. Blake was in-between them.

How had everything gone so wrong?

* * *

Stiles woke up in one of the finest moods he had ever felt. When Mr. Hale had dropped him off the last night, he'd gone straight to bed and ended up falling asleep almost immediately.

As he looked at his phone, he saw that he had missed a call from Lydia and Scott, and even a text from Scott asking if he was okay.

'Why wouldn't I be?' Stiles wondered. He guessed Scott had heard from Lydia about the jeep. Then, as he began think further about it, he realized that Scott wouldn't believe that Greenberg gave him a ride home. For all Stiles knew, Greenberg hadn't even been at the performance.

He figured that he may as well get this over with as soon as possible. He called Scott.

"Hello?" Scott answered drowsily. Scott looked at his clock. It was 7:05 a.m. For Scott, that was early.

"Hey buddy," Stiles replied in his best cheery voice.

"Stiles? What- hey, wait, what happened to you last night? Lydia called me and-"

"Long story short, I got a ride. I'm safe at home," Stiles replied.

"Lydia said you got a ride from Gree-"

"Yeah, I, uh… anyway, look, I'll see you at school, okay?" Stiles replied. "I gotta get ready. I'll talk to you later."

Stiles hung up the phone after that, and felt slightly bad. That was the second call in less than 12 hours that he had ended by hanging up before the other person could talk.

He nearly called Scott back just to apologize for that and ask for a ride, even if it was a cramped ride on his bike, when he heard a knock on his door.

"Stiles," he heard his dad say on the other side of the door, an impatient tone in his voice.

It wasn't until then that Stiles realized that he forgot to make up a cover story or leave a note for his dad explaining why his jeep was nowhere to be seen.

His dad opened the door and walked in, still in his sheriff uniform and wearing an expression of bafflement.

"Oh, uh, hey dad," Stiles started. "What're you still doing here?"

"Well, when a dad comes home from work and sees that his son's jeep is missing, and then sees his son is safe in bed and sleeping, he begins to wonder. Plus, he knows his son is going to need a ride to school," his dad replied. "Now, how 'bout explaining something to me. Like how you're here, yet your jeep isn't."

"I-" Stiles began, but his dad immediately interrupted.

"All I want is the truth, Stiles. I don't have time for one of your stories," his dad replied. Stiles couldn't help but feel bad. His dad was stressed enough as it was. This was definitely something that he knew his dad would be upset about.

"The jeep wouldn't start," Stiles replied. "I'm not a car aficionado, so I figured I'd better get a ride and then call someone out tomorrow – which is now today – out to tow it and get it fixed."

He heard his dad sigh, but it was more a sigh of relief than anything negative. Stiles was glad. He didn't like stressing his dad out about things like this. He also hoped the story was clear enough so his dad wouldn't ask what was wrong. Stiles didn't want to bring up the cut wire.

"Who gave you a ride home?" his dad asked. "I already had a chat with Lydia and Scott last night. They called me, concerned. I immediately drove over here to find out from you, but you were asleep – at a nice hour, nonetheless – so I figured I'd interrogate you in the morning when your guard was down."

"I, uh…" Stiles began, but wondered if he should tell his dad who gave him a ride. Then again, why was he so worried about telling his dad? It's not like getting a ride from a teacher is exactly a large red flag. "I ran into Mr. Hale. He saw what happened and said he'd call his friend to fix it and then gave me a ride home and here I am."

"Derek Hale? He gave you a ride?" his dad asked, more confused than concerned.

"Yep," Stiles replied. He figured it would be best to leave out the food field trip they had taken. That definitely could have been misinterpreted as something it wasn't.

"He's a good kid," his dad replied, talking more to himself than Stiles. "Glad he was there. Well, anyway, get ready for school. If I'm driving you, I'm taking you before I have to be at the station by."

* * *

When Stiles and his father arrived at the school, it was thirty minutes before the first bell. The parking lot was fairly empty, but what really concerned Stiles is the fact that his jeep was no longer where it was supposed to be.

"Uh, dad-"

"If you're about to ask about your jeep, don't worry. I got a hold of Mr. Hale, he already had his friend come pick it up. I'm going to go see his friend to see what the damage is and how much it'll cost us," his dad replied.

"Oh, okay," Stiles replied. He was about to ask how his dad got a hold of him, but seeing as how his dad was the sheriff, he probably had easy resources to use for that type of information.

"Have a good day in school. Try not to do anything stupid," his dad said, and Stiles simply smiled and got out of the car.

* * *

Stiles knew none of his friends usually got to school this early, unless Coach had scheduled an impromptu practice as a way to keep them on their toes. Ever since Stiles had received his jeep from his dad as a gift, he had been driving himself and Scott to school, and always only a few minutes before the bell.

It had been awhile since he had to go to school so early. His dad had to do this often when he would drive Stiles, since his dad had to get to the station. During those times, Stiles would go to the library to go read or write or do something productive.

But he didn't really feel like going to the library. Truth be told, he felt like being secluded from everyone until class began. Ms. Blake usually didn't show up until a few minutes before the bell herself, so Stiles decided to go by the writing room. No one was ever in the hallway before school, and if they were, they were only passing through.

As he walked through campus, he saw a few students strangling around, but overall, the place was deserted. If there were any students on campus in large groups, they were in the cafeteria getting breakfast, in the library, or at tutoring with a teacher.

When it was so early, another thing Stiles had to worry about was whether or not certain buildings would be unlocked. He wasn't sure how the system of unlocking the buildings went, but sometimes, certain areas were locked until closer to the first bell.

Once Stiles was at the door to enter the hallway to the writing room, he took a deep breath, and hoped that it was opened. He grabbed the handle and pulled, and luckily, it opened with ease. It seemed that Stiles luck was turning around; well, excluding the whole car fiasco, and having to show up to school early.

Stiles decided to test his luck and see if the writing room was open, but it was not. Maybe his lucky wasn't changing after all.

As he guessed, there was no one in the hallway, so Stiles sat down on the floor and took off his backpack. He looked at his phone, and there was now twenty-seven minutes left until school began. Scott had texted him regarding transportation, and Stiles let him know his dad was taking him, so he would have to show up on his bike. That was on the drive over here, and Stiles guessed that Scott wouldn't be here any earlier than the time they usually got here. He did wonder if Scott would be bringing him coffee, though.

Deciding not to spend the whole time being unproductive, Stiles put his phone away and began looking through his backpack. He had all his homework done, or at least the homework that was due for today, and felt like relaxing a little. He brought out a book he had been reading for the last few days, _Insurgent_ by Veronica Roth, and continued where he had last left off.

Stiles had become so engrossed in his book that he hadn't noticed that someone was towering over him near the door to the classroom. Surprised, Stiles flinched and shut his book, looking up to see Mr. Hale, wearing shades.

'And just when I changed my opinion about him,' Stiles joked to himself in his head.

"What're you doing here?" Mr. Hale asked blankly.

"I'm waging war on public places," Stiles replied sarcastically.

"I don't know why I bothered asking," Mr. Hale replied, rather good-naturedly. Stiles got up from where he was sitting, trying to get out of his way as Mr. Hale opened the door. He was about to sit along one of the other walls when Mr. Hale stopped him. "You can come sit in the classroom, like, you know, a normal kid. It's your first period."

"Oh, yeah, I, uh, guess I could," Stiles replied, grabbing his stuff and walking into the classroom as Mr. Hale waited by the doorway. Stiles noticed that the man was staring at the book in his hands, and the man scoffed. "What?" Stiles questioned, putting his stuff down on a nearby table. "Please don't tell me your scoffing at what I'm reading, or else I'm going to have deduct points from your good-person-score."

"I'm scoffing because I can't believe you are barely reading that book," Mr. Hale replied with a cocky grin. "What is this 'good-person-score'?"

"Oh, that's, uh, on a need-to-know basis," Stiles replied. "So what, you've read this already?" Stiles asked.

"As soon as it came out. You're a bit late to the party, aren't you?" Mr. Hale joked, walking to his desk and setting his stuff down.

"Well, if you really must know, I'm rereading it. The final book is coming out soon, you know? I'm just doing this as a refresher," Stiles replied. "So scoff at that."

"Alright, I surrender," Mr. Hale replied, putting his hands up in a mock-pleading manner. Stiles couldn't help but laugh at that. It seemed so… not like him. "What's so funny?" Mr. Hale asked, returning to his original stance.

"Nothing," Stiles lied. "So," Stiles began, changing the subject, "I'm surprised you've read these books."

"I already told you, I'm not a book snob," Mr. Hale replied. "If it sounds interesting, I'll read it. That's all there is to it."

"It's just, you're so…"

"Old?" Mr. Hale replied. "This is totally feeling like a rehash of last night."

"Alright, I'm sorry," Stiles apologized, still smiling. "Guess I'm just surprised and getting used to this side of you."

"You act like I'm a robot," Mr. Hale replied.

"I act like I'm barely finding stuff out about my dark, mysterious and brooding teacher," Stiles replied. "It's a normal reaction."

"I'm going to ignore that comment," Mr. Hale replied. "Anyway, here's some information I'm sure you'll be glad about. My friend picked up your car and said the work shouldn't be too time consuming or even that much to fix. So you should have your jeep by the end of the day."

"Thanks, by the way," Stiles said. "For that. You didn't have to do that."

"I guess just think of it as a favor for your dad. He's a good guy."

"Oh," Stiles replied, his mood sinking a little. He wasn't sure why. Why was he bothered that Mr. Hale had only helped him out as a favor to his dad. It wasn't really that much of a surprise. It's not like Mr. Hale really wanted the company of a seventeen-going-on-eighteen boy after school hours.

The classroom went into silence after that. Stiles returned to his book, as Mr. Hale began to turn on his laptop and work on something.

Minutes later, Ms. Blake walked into the classroom, her face beaming when she saw Mr. Hale and then changing to a short look of a surprise when she saw Stiles.

"Good morning, Mr. Hale. Good morning, Stiles. You're rather… early," Ms. Blake stated, but more like an accusation than a statement.

"I was having some car problems. My dad had to drop me off before work," Stiles replied, trying to keep his response short. He didn't know why, but it seemed like Ms. Blake was upset at him, like he was intruding on her. It was then that Stiles saw some of his classmates beginning to enter the classroom, and he tried to get his mind off of Ms. Blake as he heard her talking to Mr. Hale, laughing and in rather close proximity.

Kira entered in the room then, and he noticed in one of her hands was a disposable coffee cup.

"That for me?" Stiles asked Kira as she came to his table.

"It is. I asked Scott what I had to do to get him to bring me coffee. I hope none of what he said is what you two do when you're alone," Kira joked.

"Oh man, how'd you figure it out?" Stiles replied back sarcastically. "Oh well, looks like years of going around secretly has been for naught."

As Kira and he exchanged small talk while she put her stuff down at the table, the warning bell for five minutes before the first bell began to ring, letting students know they had five minutes to report to class before being marked late.

Lydia entered the room just as the bell was ringing, and looked surprised to see Stiles already at the table. As she came closer, however, he saw her look changing to one more of frustration.

"Oh no," Stiles muttered, and as Kira turned around to greet their friend, she saw the look on Lydia's face.

"What did you do?" Kira asked, but before Stiles could respond, she was at the table.

"You," Lydia began, staring straight at Stiles as she tossed her stuff gracefully onto the table. "There are a lot of words I would like to call you right now, but I'm supposed to be in a happy mood, so I'd like to refrain from being unladylike."

"Actually, cussing isn't unladylike at all," KIra began. "It's just something we're told because we're supposed to act more 'civilized' and 'controlled' than men who get to d whatever they want with no consequences."

"Kira, as much as I agree with you this is not the time," Lydia replied, and Kira immediately looked away. "Stiles, do you have any idea what I went through last night?! First, I see your car in the parking lot, Stiles-less and already you have missed two of my calls. Then, I finally get you to answer, but you refuse to tell me where you are and how you managed to get a ride when nobody we know has confessed – and trust me, I made sure to ask everyone. Finally, you ignore my calls for the rest of the night, so I'm forced to call your dad to make sure you are still alive. Do you understand how much stress that has put me under? I'm going to have stress marks when I get older because of you!"

Stiles stayed silent, unsure of how to respond as Lydia glared at him.

"Say something!" Lydia exclaimed.

"I'm sorry!" Stiles began. "I just got tired when I got home so I went to sleep. Look, it's all in the past now, can we just forget about-"

Before Stiles could finish his sentence, he was distracted by Danny coming into the room, Aiden behind him, chatting with him in a friendly manner. Stiles felt all his anger from last night returning to him suddenly.

"Sorry isn't going to cut it, Stiles. I still don't know what happened last night! It's like you might as well have flown- Stiles?"

Stiles didn't wait for Lydia to finish her sentence. As soon as he saw Aiden, he made sure that it was Aiden and not Ethan walking him to class or pretending to be his brother for a class period so he could be with his boyfriend, as he had done a few times. He began to march over to the boy, who was much bigger and muscular than him, and cracked a snarky grin as Stiles approached him.

"Well, good morning, Stiles. Why, I I didn't know any better, today you look worse than a-"

Aiden didn't get a chance to finish. Stiles swung his right fist straight at Aiden's face, hitting him square in the jaw. The boy hadn't been expecting it, and staggered back a few steps in shock. The whole class spun around, surprised by what happened, and in too much awe to move.

Stiles, however, was not. He jumped onto Aiden before he could retaliate, and began to release a flurry of punches at the boy. Aiden, although initially caught off-guard and trying to get over the feeling of what he was sure was a split lip, threw Stiles off of him and tackled him to the ground.

The two began rolling around on the ground with each other, trying to hurt the other. Finally, the class began to react, and Lydia, Ms. Blake, and Mr. Hale ran over to break up the fight.


	10. Chapter 10

**_September 2013_**

It hadn't taken much for the others to break the two up. It also hadn't taken long for Ms. Blake to escort the two to the Principal's office, leaving Mr. Hale to look over the class.

Stiles and Aiden were sitting outside of the Principal's office, having been put on opposite sides of the room as soon as Ms. Blake went to talk to Principal Argent by herself. He tried not to look at the evil twin as he held an ice pack to his face similarly to how Aiden was holding an ice pack to his lip.

Truth be told, Stiles didn't feel much better for what he did. It had felt good to release the frustration and anger he had, but it hadn't really done anything big or long-term. Soon enough, his mood was sour once again, and all Stiles wanted to do was go home and sleep.

Ms. Blake came out from Principal Argent's office with a displeased expression on her face.

"Stiles, Principal Argent would like to see you next," Ms. Blake stated shortly, and then took a seat in the middle of the room.

Stiles got up from his chair, wincing slightly from the pain he could now feel coursing through his body. He had never been in a fight, or at least, not a serious one like this. This queasy, heavy feeling in his body was foreign to him.

Once Stiles stepped into the office of Principal Argent, she looked up from some paperwork on her desk stoically and motioned for him to close the door behind him. After he did, he sat in one of the chairs on the opposite side of her desk from where she was, and waited.

"So, Stiles, I must say, I'm rather surprised to see you here," Principal Argent stated, looking down at her paperwork and scribbling something unseen on it.

"You are?" Stiles asked, a little surprised. Principal Argent hadn't really ever been that big of a fan of Scott or him. While Mr. Argent had come around, Principal Argent always seemed just tolerant of the duo. It was much better than disdain or anything else she had once held for them, however.

"Well, if this were two years ago, I would have said no. Yet, it seems you have surprisingly pulled your life together in that time, and even show some talent and prestige in your field of study. For that, I am impressed. And also rather displeased by your presence here. You were in a fight," she replied, though on the last bit of the sentence, Stiles swore that Principal Argent looked rather amused and in awe that Stiles had been in a fight.

"So, what's my punishment?" Stiles asked. He and Scott used to get in trouble quite a bit when they were younger, so he knew anything "bad" he did was going to receive some form of punishment or recreational methods to make up for what he did.

"I know most Principals tend to fall on 'suspension' for students who get into fights, but frankly I find that idea asinine and more of a reward than a punishment. Another idea would be to force the two of you to write some paper or essay or read a book and hand in a report, but the two of you are writers, and I'm almost certain you could do that without batting an eye. No, I know what must be done.

"You are going to do some manual labor for the school," Principal Argent began. "Every Monday and Friday, you will stay after school for two hours to help the janitorial staff. This will continue until the end of this semester. If you think this punishment is too harsh, I'm afraid you will just have to live with that. I do not tolerate fighting in my school, and even this punishment is lenient, since I know how involved you are with your class literary magazine and Allison says that you are not as peculiar as you appear. Do you have a problem with that?"

Throughout the whole deliverance of Stiles's punishment, Principal Argent didn't look at him even once, seemingly paying more attention to her paperwork. Stiles wondered if she even considered this meeting they were having important or relevant in the slightest.

"I am fine with that," Stiles replied half-heartedly, feeling incredibly whelmed. He didn't want to be doing custodial work until the end of this semester, especially two days a week after school, but he knew better than to try to argue with Principal Argent. He knew that this was her being "lenient."

"Good. Now, you may go," Principal Argent replied, waving him away with the flick of her wrist.

* * *

After Stiles left the office, he sat outside while Aiden met with Principal Argent alone, more than likely to receive the same punishment. Stiles was sure that no matter what he hoped, she would probably end up having the two of them working together.

Once Aiden was out of the office, Ms. Blake abruptly stood up and led the two boys outside of the waiting room. The hall was practically empty as they went outside, and as Aiden closed the door behind him, she spun around and looked at both of them incredulously.

"What were you thinking?!" she demanded, not accusing one of them specifically but faulting both of them. "If you two had such a large problem with each other, you should have told me! Or at least tried to have worked it out without causing a scene in class! What is going on with you two?!"

"It's all his fault, Ms. Blake," Aiden began. Stiles's head jerked up at the accusation. "He's always been jealous of me, ever since I showed up. I was with Lydia for awhile, and he used to have the biggest crush on her, but she never paid him any attention, so he blamed me and holds resentment towards me for that."

"What the-" Stiles began, but Aiden was not done.

"I'd go as far as to say he also hates me for looking just like my brother, who started going out with Danny. Everyone knows that Stiles and Danny dated-"

"That was never serious, and why would I-" Stiles tried once again, but Aiden wouldn't let him talk.

"He's always been bitter towards me, and add in the fact that you made both of us Editor-in-Chief and not just him, I'm sure that's even more of a reason for him not to like me."

"Are you kidding right now? You're seriously going to blame this on me?!" Stiles exclaimed. Their voices were starting to echo through the empty hallway, and Ms. Blake seemed to be growing more impatient and angry with how the situation was escalating.

"That's it, both of you, just stop-" she began, but this time, it was Stiles who was doing the cutting off.

"No! You wanna blame us, fine, but you are just as much at fault as this, Ms. Blake!" Stiles replied, and the three each fell into shock. Ms. Blake couldn't believe what he said, Aiden was surprised Stiles said it, and Stiles couldn't believe he actually felt that way, but he did. "You saw how he acted around us. Around me. You could have put a stop to this awhile ago. Instead, you let it happen. You let it get worse.

"And as for you," Stiles continued, changing his attention back to Aiden, "You have done nothing but cause trouble since you got here, and the reason you hate me is because I broke you and Lydia up, which I did because you are not a good person! Maybe if you had been, I wouldn't have been practically planning a wedding for Lydia and Jackson the moment he came back, because let me tell you, even Jackson has his share of problems, but he is actually a decent guy deep, deep down. You? You just wanted the 'hottest girl at school' with your stupid cool kid transfer demeanor and womanizing, objectifying ways and something you couldn't have because she lost interest in you."

"Don't act like you know me, Stilinski," Aiden growled.

"Oh, but I do. And it hurts you to know that everything I just said is true. And really, if you really blame me for you and Lydia falling out, then ask yourself why, if she really wanted you, she chose Jackson. I may have set it up, but it wasn't a trap, and it wasn't even a likely to work. It was one of the worst plans I had ever tried in my life, and the only time I will ever pull a Lydia to try and get someone with someone else, but it worked because she wanted him and not you."

Aiden was turning red, and he looked like he wanted to hit Stiles, and yet, his body was rigid. Stiles knew he had struck a chord, and that every single thing he had said to Aiden about him and why his relationship, if it could even be called that, with Lydia had never worked.

"But you know what really, finally caused me to snap? To refuse to put up with your taunting, your bullying, your disrespectful comments to me and everyone else? The fact that you took it a step further and actually damaged my property," Stiles ranted.

"What are you talking about?" Aiden finally replied. Everything until now had truly been a blow to him, but now, as Stiles looked at the boy, he had never seen him look so clueless. Ms. Blake was still in too much shock, in her own thoughts, to really process or try to stop what was happening.

"I went to my car last night, Aiden. I know that you cut something so I'd be stranded. I know you did it!" Stiles accused.

"I have no idea what the hell you are talking about!" Aiden yelled back. "I didn't do anything to your stupid jeep. I could care less if it turned into a giant maneating machine and devoured your soul so you'd finally get out of my life with your miserable existence."

"Stop denying it, I know you did it!"

The two began to argue, when suddenly, s. Blake came back to her senses and was trying to break up the tension and heated words between both boys, when it was actually a shout that silenced them all.

"Shut UP!"

The three all turned to look toward the entrance of the building, and standing by the doors and walking over with a determined stride was Lydia, a large and displeased scowl on her face.

"Lydia, what're you doing here?" Aiden asked, confused

"I came because I needed to talk to Stiles," Lydia replied pointedly.

"How did you even get out of the classroom? I told Mr. Hale not to let anyone leave," Ms. Blake asked.

"I'm a pretty girl who also has a brain. I can get out of anything I want to," Lydia replied, confused as to over how Ms. Blake couldn't have guessed something so obvious herself.

"Lydia, why do you need to talk to me now? It's not exactly the best time," Stiles replied.

"Yes, it is," Lydia began, "because you attacked Aiden falsely. Well, for the wrong reasons anyway. He isn't the one who you think messed with your car."

"Lydia, what are you talking about?" Stiles asked. "He is the only one who could have. No one else would have-"

"Yes, they would have, and only for the right reasons and only if they knew they could pay for damages caused," Lydia replied. As Stiles looked at her, things started piecing themselves together, and it was clear to him now. Why she had been so insistent on calling him that night, why she had been confused and concerned over him getting a ride, why she had been so intrusive – it all made sense.

"Lydia… did you do it?" Stiles asked, uncertainty in his words.

"It was only because I care about you," she replied. "I was going to pick you up and have it towed and taken to this shop I know. I was going to pay for it. There was this cute guy at the mechanic shop that I thought you'd hit it off with, and I knew there was no other way I could get you there. And if that didn't work, there was a cute girl where they sell automobile parts, and so I was going to try with her next with you along."

"You did all of this… because of your stupid plan to get me to hook up with someone?" Stiles asked, and he could feel the anger rising in him. He was still pissed at Aiden, and he was frustrated overall, but now this was all he could handle.

"Stiles, I'm so-"

Stiles wasn't sure how it began to happen. But he felt it. It was getting hard to breathe. His body felt heavy, and everything around him was beginning to feel shaky and blurry. His mind was going a million miles a minute. His breathes were hard, and his heart was pounding in his chest. It was like there was no oxygen for him to take in, and he could feel gravity pushing him downward.

He was having a panic attack. And the last thing he remembered was everything going black.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note:**

I forgot to add this into the previous chapters as a thing, so I will be going back to fix that currently. However, I want current readers to know that this story takes place in a specific time period (pretty much September 2013 – when it ends), just in case there is any confusion in the future. Anyway, enjoy ^^

* * *

_**September 2013**_

It felt good to be touched.

Stiles couldn't remember how long it had been. It had never been as far, or really, felt like as much as he had wanted it to feel.

He and Danny had never done too much, but they had done a lot.

With Heather, it felt rushed and fake and very heat-of-moment.

But this… it was different.

The hands were foreign on his body, for he knew he never had really experienced them, but they felt like they belonged. There was a tingle he got when they made contact, a rush.

Stiles's world was warped and distorted and dreamy. The person who was lying under him, who he was now planting his mouth on and spooning with, formed nicely to his own body. Stiles could scruff on the stranger's face – it must have been a man, for Stiles couldn't remember ever meeting a bearded lady – but he liked it. He had never kissed anyone with real hair on their face, and the way the stubble felt on his face made him itch but also tickled.

Part of Stiles knew what was happening wasn't real. After all, even in his dreams, Stiles knew something was like this, especially with a faceless, blurry picture of a person and scenery he couldn't see clearly, was too good and too unrealistic. Still, Stiles found some comfort in the dream. Whatever his mind was whipping up, whoever had their hands on his body, albeit imaginary and impossible, was one of the best experiences he had ever felt.

Unfortunately, the feeling didn't last as long as he would have liked.

Stiles woke up, opening his eyes to a blinding and startling light. It took a moment for his eyes to focus, but as he looked over the room he was in, and the bed he was now lying in, he knew he was in the hospital. But for whatever reason, he couldn't remember why.

The room was empty, much to Stiles' surprise. He expected everyone to be crowding around him, sleep-deprived and worried. Yet here he was, lying on the bed in a hospital, alone, and there wasn't even anyone in the bed next to his.

He tried to concentrate, to remember why he was here, and everything came back to him. The jeep, the fight, Lydia.

He started to feel the emotions rushing back, but he tried to calm down. He remembered techniques he had been trying to learn to prevent from having attacks.

Finally, his body regained its composure, and Stiles could think calmly and rationally over what had occurred. It had been a very eventful day, and looking back on it, he couldn't believe that is what happened, or that he had actually attacked Aiden.

As Stiles pondered, the door to his room opened, and he saw Ms. McCall walk into his room, carrying a tray of food.

"Oh good, you're awake," Ms. McCall stated. "We were starting to get worried about you."

"'We'?" Stiles asked, curious.

"Oh- well, I, uh, I just meant that your father and I were worried," Ms. McCall replied suspiciously, as if she were trying to hide something, but Stiles's couldn't understand what she would be hiding. "And Scott, of course. He ended up coming down here but I told him if he didn't get back to school, I was going to ground him since you just needed rest."

"Where's my dad?" Stiles asked. Ms. McCall had moved further into the room by this point, and had pulled out a table attached to the bed he was in and placed the tray of food on top of it.

"He went to the bathroom and to get some coffee. He's been here since he got the call."

"Why am I here, anyway?" Stiles asked. "I mean, this seems a little… over the top."

"You had a panic attack, Stiles. That's not exactly something you treat like a cut or a stubbed toe," Ms. McCall replied. "Your teacher, Ms. Blake, is the one who called the ambulance, and all your friends were worried too.

"Anyway, you need to gain some of your strength back, so eat," Ms. McCall replied. "And you may want to look in a mirror, too. You have a nice shiner, which I'm guessing is from your scuffle I heard so much about earlier."

And with that, Ms. McCall left, and Stiles was left alone in his room. He looked at the clock, and saw that it had been a couple of hours. It wouldn't be much longer before school was out of session. Stiles looked at his food and found his stomach growling, despite the cliché of hospital food being rather undesirable.

Once Stiles was finished with his food, the door opened once again, and this time, it was his dad.

"Well, it's about time. You were out for awhile," his dad started. As Stiles looked at his dad, he could tell that his dad had been worried. He looked exhausted and worn. "Anyway, I just saw Mel- I mean, Scott's mother in here. I guess she filled you in on the details of your dos and don'ts?"

"I know, no more drag racing for me. What will all my suitors think if they found out?" Stiles replied sarcastically. His dad just stared at him with a quizzical expression and took a seat by him. A silence filled the room for a moment, before his father cleared his throat and began to talk again.

"So, do you want to tell me what happened? Your side, I mean?"

Stiles wanted to just lie to his dad and say everything was alright, but he knew better. He could only hide certain things from his father for so long, and he knew that this was not something he would be able to weasel his way out of as usual.

"I got in a fight. It was stupid. Turns out that the saying 'look before you leap' has an actual purpose," Stiles replied.

"I meant details, Stiles. I'm your father, and I want to know why my seventeen year old son was fighting with what Scott referred to as a 'Wonder Twin'."

"I taught him that nickname," Stiles muttered to himself proudly, but saw the scowl on his father's face appearing. "You remember how my car was kind of messed up last night right?" His dad nodded. "Well, I thought it was intentional, and I was right about that, just not about who did it.

"I haven't had the best relationship with Aiden, and he's a huge dickhead-"

"Stiles-"

"I know, I know. Anyway, I was convinced he did it because I had been putting my foot down lately with his antics and his attitude. Turns out, it was actually Lydia. She was trying to hook me up with someone and thought the best way to do that was to ruin my jeep."

Silence passed between them again. Stiles' dad was sipping from his coffee as Stiles messed around with some of the leftovers he had on his tray.

"So I guess I can hit up Lydia for a check then, as you kids would say," Stiles's dad joked. Stiles chuckled a little at it. "Look, we're going to have a longer and more detailed talk about this when we get home, but for now, I'm going to go get you released from here so we can take you home and you can rest. Alright, pal?"

"Got it, dad," Stiles replied. His dad lightly smiled and then began leaving the room, just as Lydia walked in.

"Oh, sorry Mr. Stilinski," Lydia said, nearly bumping him.

"You owe me two hundred and eighty-three dollars," his dad said with a stoic face as he left the room, leaving Lydia mystified over the random outburst. She quickly shook it off and moved into the room nervously, taking a seat by Stiles.

"Hey," Lydia greeted uneasily.

"Hey," Stiles replied, feeling awkward. After what had happened, each felt uncomfortable around each other, letting silence fill in the blanks.

"I-"

"Lydia-"

They both began talking at the same time, but then stopped, each embarrassed.

"Lydia, you go ahead," Stiles said.

"Okay," Lydia began, clearing her throat and looking at him wearily. "I know what I did was wrong, and I'm sorry. I know that it was really out of line, especially for me, and if I could take it back, I would. But you have to understand why I did it."

"Lydia, it's not that big of a deal," Stiles replied. "I mean, yeah, it could have been, but it's not like you harmed me out of spite of malice. You were just being… well, you."

"And yet I screwed up, Stiles. And I feel bad because I didn't mean for any of- well, this to happen," Lydia replied, waving her hand around the hospital room. "I didn't realize just how unpredictable you are sometimes. I should have taken 'visit to the hospital' into my consideration for things other than after you having sex."

"What?!"

"Anyway," Lydia interrupted, "I just wanted you to know why I did it. I did this because, well, I thought maybe I could hook you up with someone nice, you know? And with after your track record, and then, well, 'other stuff'…"

"'Other stuff'?" Stiles questioned.

"How long did you like me for, Stiles?" Lydia suddenly asked, avoiding eye contact.

"I- uhh… whereis that coming from?"

"You liked me for awhile. I know that much," Lydia began. "And I used to think it was gross. After all, before we talked because of Scott and Allison, you were just some weird boy who idolized me because I was the best thing he had ever seen in his life and he would never see anything better, so I guess I understand.

"But at the same time, after we did start talking… when we became friends, I should have told you right away to stop liking me, to turn your attention somewhere else."

"Lydia, that isn't your fault. It was mine. We would have never happened. You can't blame yourself because I was too stupid to realize it."

"What if you're wrong?" Lydia asked.

"About you not being at fault?" Stiles asked.

"No." Lydia shook her head. "Stiles, before Jackson came back, even while I was hanging out with Aiden… I liked you. A lot."

"You what?!" Stiles exclaimed. This had to still be a dream. There was no way Lydia had ever, ever expressed interest in him.

"It's true," Lydia replied. "And I was too stupid to act on it. I thought I wanted something else, and instead, I was stuck with Aiden until I decided that Jackson was a better choice. And even then, I feel like I was being so stupid because I ignored how I felt about you because I didn't view you as a real, valuable choice.

"I still feel like, if maybe Jackson hadn't come back… if things had been different, maybe we could have worked out. Maybe something would have happened. And yet, because I let you fawn over me for so long, you missed so many chances, and you haven't had such great luck since."

"Lydia, just because I used to like you doesn't mean you're at fault for this. No one is except for me, and even then, I'm not looking for a relationship. I'm happy as I am. I don't want something to have for the next few months that is just going to disappear forever afterwards."

"I get that now. I realize I was being… well, kind of crazy. I felt so guilty, that I had to get you with someone. And that's why I did all of this, because I was being guilty and I used the guilt to justify me as trying to find you someone to make you happy."

"I am happy, Lydia," Stiles replied. "I mean, this setting may not illustrate this best, but I am. I just want to spend the next few months I have in peace and with friends. We only have awhile left before we all go to college and see each other less and less."

"You're right," Lydia replied, smiling "I know. And from now on, I will not be trying to hook you up with anyone anymore, I promise. I'm going to be a different Lydia from here on out, I promise."

The two talked for awhile like that, until finally, Stiles's dad and Scott's mother showed up to escort him out. Lydia left just as they were finalizing his release. Stiles felt touched by her words, and even her confession, but he also knew that what he had for Lydia wasn't there anymore. Maybe it was because she was with someone, or they had become such great friends.

Either way, it wasn't anything he thought of anymore. He wasn't looking for love or dates or companionship anymore. Maybe in college, but for now, he just wanted to be alone. He figured that was best.


	12. Chapter 12

October 2013

"What do you mean you're not coming?" Stiles demanded. He was in a parking lot, and the night was starting to grow late. He was driving his jeep around, trying to find a parking spot at a outdoor shopping center whilst on the phone.

"I mean you're insane if you think I'm going to go with you, wait at a bookstore until midnight on a school night just for a book," Lydia replied from the receiver of his cell phone.

"This isn't about just 'some book.' This is the ending to Veronica Roth's trilogy-"

"And like every other rational person on this earth, I ordered it online with overnight sipping several months ago so that way I could get it in the mail tomorrow," Lydia replied. "Stiles, it's just a book. I love them, don't get me wrong, but if you think I'm waiting in line with you on a school night when I could be doing something more productive with my time, like studying for my German class-"

"Which is totally a random college class you shouldn't even be taking right now since you're still in high school-" Stiles began.

"The point is, I don't have time nor want to put forth the effort. There is only one midnight release I will ever go to, and that is for a new Harry Potter book. Aka, never."

"Alright, fine. I get it. You, Scott, Kira, you all abandoned me and are selfish, evil people," Stiles replied sarcastically, finding a place to park.

"At least I'm still pretty," Lydia replied, and even though Stiles couldn't see it, he was sure she was smiling.

"I'll talk to you on Thursday. I'm skipping school tomorrow to marathon this," Stiles replied, turning off his car. "And probably to cry."

"Let me know if there are any sex scenes. Jackson really enjoys when I read those to him."

"Too much information, Lydia. Way too much information."

"Have you ever seen 'The Reader'? I'm Kate Winslet and Jackson is the hot teen boy, only I know how to read. It's just hotter to have an audiobook from the mouth of an Abercrombie model."

"Hanging up now," Stiles replied back, and carried through on his promise before Lydia could say another word. Sighing, Stiles pocketed his phone, grabbed what he needed, and left the car.

While Beacon Hills was pretty progressive and unlike a small town, some clichés still did apply to it, such as the local bookstores asking Stiles if he was crazy for trying to get a book early before its release date or to ask for a midnight release.

So, he had to look online for which chain bookstore closest to him would be having one, and luckily, there was one just outside of Beacon Hills having one, so that drive wasn't as long or far as he had feared. He'd worried he'd have to drive over a couple of towns into a big city before he was somewhere he could get the book.

Stiles also wanted to know what it was like, to experience a midnight release. He had never before been to a midnight release for a book, and he had hoped he'd be here with his friends, but unfortunately, that was not the case. At least Lydia hadn't lied. He was sure Kira and Scott wanted some 'alone time,' which he was glad for in a way. They had been practically smothering him ever since Lydia had relayed her message to stop the search for his soulmate. He guessed they felt bad or guilty and didn't want him to feel alone, and while he loved their company, he could only stand it so much before wanting to hit them over the head with his collection of Cassandra Clare novels.

Here Stiles was, walking up to the bookstore, which already had a small line forming in front of the doors, to wait for the release of Allegiant. Alone. He was at least glad he brought his backpack. It was about 9 p.m., and that gave him some time to do some writing. Really, he knew he should probably be studying for his math test that he had scheduled for Thursday, especially since he was going to be missing Wednesday, which was a strict "Review day," but his creative whimsies grabbed hold of the better of him.

Once Stiles found his place at the end of the small line, sure it would be building up any moment now, he leaned against the brick wall of the book store, took his journal out from his backpack along with his pen, and began to write.

* * *

Stiles knew a good deal of time had passed, but as he felt someone practically shove themselves next to him, he knew it was nowhere near time for the doors of the store to be opening.

It wasn't until he felt someone hovering over his shoulder that Stiles turned around, and he saw Mr. Hale there, who had been observing his writing.

"Mr. Hale, what're you doing here?" Stiles asked, rather shocked and caught off-guard that he was here.

"Hello to you too, Stiles," Mr. Hale replied sarcastically, looking as if he had expected a warmer welcome. "I'm here for the release. You didn't really think I was simply going to ignore getting the conclusion as soon as possible, did you?"

Stiles was still at a loss of how to reply. Then again, it wasn't all that peculiar for Mr. Hale to be here either for the same reasons as Stiles. This was the closest bookstore with a midnight release to Beacon Hills.

"I guess what I'm mostly shocked about is the fact that you're… well, here," Stiles replied. "It's weird seeing teachers out of school, especially for something like this."

"I'm only a few years older than you," Mr. Hale replied rolling his eyes. "I see that you've been writing while waiting in line. Seems we think alike now, huh?" As Mr. Hale reached his left hand into the inside of his leather jacket, he pulled out a medium-sized simple black journal that looked rather worn and used with a fine point pen attached to it. "I tend to never go anywhere without it."

"Is that where you keep all your writing?" Stiles asked, curious. After all, it was known that Mr. Hale wrote. Yet nobody had yet been able to see anything of his that he had written, despite all the digging the students had done, be it in the room or online.

"Not all of it. This journal is fairly new," Mr. Hale replied.

"That journal looks like you beat it up and took its lunch money," Stiles said skeptically.

"I mean it's my newest journal, but not my only one. No writer has only one journal worth of writing unless they are first starting out. I've been writing for years It's only natural that I possess several journals."

"And I don't suppose that the fact you have shown the journal to me means you're actually going to share any writing with me, does it?" Stiles asked, giving a nudge to his teacher and then winking. He immediately regretted the wink for the simple reason of not knowing why he had done it or if it had been appropriate.

If Mr. Hale had been bothered in anyway by it, however, his face gave nothing away.

"No, this writing stays with me," Mr. Hale replied.

"You've been writing for several years. You don't really keep it hidden, do you?" Stiles asked. Sharing work was nerve-racking, that's for sure. You never knew if the work you would be sharing would be really well received or a box office flop.

"I share it. I'm going to school for writing, it's inferred that I share it – but that doesn't mean I have to share it with anybody in your class."

"You've heard a lot of our writing. Don't you think you should share as well?"

"That's why I'm the teacher and you are the pupil. I don't have to share. You do because Jen- Ms. Blake and I grade you and give critique."

Stiles began putting his journal away subconsciously, knowing full well that whatever writing he had planned on getting done would be on hold. It was a rare thing to exchange comments with Mr. Hale. It was another thing to have a conversation with him – a real conversation.

It hadn't been since that night in September that Stiles and Mr. Hale had talked, really talked, and… it had been fun.

As if reading Stiles' mind, Mr. Hale put his journal away and cleared his throat.

"So, we never really got a chance to talk about what happened with you and Aiden."

"What's there to say? I acted rashly, I lashed out, and now I'm the school cleaning committee with my favorite person in the world," Stiles replied trying to make it sound like nothing. "No big deal."

"I feel partly responsible," Mr. Hale replied. "I was with you the night you saw your jeep the way it was – I should have tried to have you vent out your feelings so you wouldn't have lashed out. Or maybe I never should have given the advice I did about how to deal with him."

"Whoa, me fighting him had nothing to do with you," Stiles interrupted, rather surprised. "And besides, that night was fine. I'm glad it went the way it did. I learned that you have weird drinking fancies and happen to not be as snobby as I thought."

Stiles could have sworn, as he stared at Mr. Hale, that he saw a smile playing on his lips. His eyes definitely caught Stiles's attention. He couldn't believe someone could have such blue strong blue eyes. It was like he was wearing contacts – in fact, as Stiles began to think about it, he could have sworn that when he once saw Mr. Hale, at a younger age, in his father's station, that the boy had brown eyes, not blue.

"Is anyone else joining you tonight?" Mr. Hale asked, looking around the large parking lot. Stiles looked down at his phone and checked the time. It was nearing a quarter till 11 p.m., and he hadn't received any texts from anyone saying they changed their minds and were racing over to join him in line.

"Nope, tonight I am simply riding solo," Stiles replied. "How 'bout you?"

"No, just me," Mr. Hale replied.

It was bizarre, but Stiles was rather ecstatic to hear the news. There would undoubtedly be more people showing up soon to join the line they were in, but now they would be alone, so long as no one else they knew also came.

"Well, good. Then I can be your escort inside," Stiles jested.

"My what?" Mr. Hale scowled.

"Oh, don't be such a…" Stiles began to say, searching for the perfect term. He wanted something he knew the big guy would really love. "Such a sourwolf."

"It's like your intentionally trying to grate my nerves," Mr. Hale replied, his hand on his head in mock-exhaustion. He was still scowling, which Stiles's didn't really mind since that's what he seemed to do all the time.

The two continued to chat in line, whilst time grew closer and closer to midnight. They talked about the Divergent series, about things they loved about it, things they didn't love about it, and even some things that they disagreed upon.

"All I'm saying," Stiles started, "is that Four – or Tobias – was a much better character in the first book. Insurgent made him a lot less likable, and while Tris was being rather difficult at certain points, it's not like Four was exactly helpful."

"You have to be kidding me. Insurgent is what made Four so much more relatable. Maybe he isn't as 'likable' as in the first book, but that's only because we saw the good parts of him and then his tragic back story that made us feel sorry for him. In the second book, we actually see him with more of his flaws, but even with those, he manages to be a great person."

The line continued to grow as time passed, and despite the intense conversation the two were having over the books, nobody else ever interrupted or tried to chime in. It was like the two were in their own little world.

The duos conversation didn't finally reach a halt until the time was about to be midnight, and the crowded line reached a strange hush in anticipation for the opening of the doors. As if the store was sensing the possibility of a Black Friday madness rush amongst the crowd, several security guards had been placed around the entrance to maintain the flow of people and make sure nothing went out of hand.

"So, what else do you read?" Mr. Hale suddenly asked. "It's evident you like dystopian and I know you read Vampire Academy. What else do you like?"

"I'd say I'm pretty big on fantasy, young adult, you know. I've been meaning to start The Infernal Devices by Cassandra Clare. It's a prequel series to The Mortal Instruments set in the late 1870s. Oh, any mysteries and crime. Like Sue Grafton or Gosho Aoyama."

"I haven't read any of those. I'm more picky with that genre I guess. I'm more of a contemporary reader, I suppose," Mr. Hale replied. "Though, I will admit I have been wanting to start The Mortal Instruments, if for the simple reason that everyone keeps talking about them and I haven't seen the movie yet."

"Who'd have guessed that Mr. Hale was such a nerd," Stiles replied with a smug grin.

Mr. Hale scowled once more, and Stiles couldn't help but find the look rather attractive on him. Though, of course, Stiles wasn't actually attracted to him. He was his teacher. There was an unspoken law about being attracted to teachers.

Finally, the doors to the bookstore opened, and the security guards began letting people in slowly, letting in a group of ten at a time. Stiles and Mr. Hale were in the second group that had been let in, but even so, Stiles couldn't find his excitement nor his fear that for whatever reason, a copy of Allegiant would not be attainable for him even after all of this effort.

Luckily, Stiles saw where the copies of Allegiant were, and saw that there were mass amounts, and no doubt more in the back. Stiles reached to grab his copy, when at the same time Mr. Hale had, and for a brief second, their hands brushed one another. They made eye contact instantly, and Stiles suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious as he looked at his teacher – well, teacher's assistant.

Quickly, before the two could exchange anything awkward, Stiles drew his hand away and grabbed a nearby copy of Allegiant, turning his attention directly to it. He felt too nervous to look at Mr. Hale, even though he had no reason to feel that way.

"So, uh… looks like we have our copies!" Stiles replied, glancing over at the man for a second and turning attention back to the book. Normally Stiles would have found himself completely drawn into the feeling of holding a new book in his hand, but somehow, he had let himself become distracted by what had transpired.

"Yeah," Mr. Hale replied, his casual brisk tone apparent.

"Well… since we got our copies, I'm gonna go, uh, look around for awhile. See ya, Mr. Hale," Stiles said abruptly, and began to turn, before he felt the man moving toward him.

"Wait, Stiles," Mr. Hale began.

"Yes?" Stiles replied, and against his best interest, turned to look at the man. If he had been bothered by the slight touch of their hands, or had even registered it as anything more than a coincidence, his face did not show it.

"Before you leave, you said you're not exactly that big on contemporary, right?" Mr. Hale replied.

"I'm not exactly hating on it, but I mean, I think the only 'contemporary' book I've read that I really enjoyed was Perks of Being a Wallflower back in freshmen year."

"Come with me," Mr. Hale said suddenly. He began walking away, walking to a different aisle, and Stiles followed after a few seconds. He wasn't sure where his teacher was taking him, but he was curious enough.

Mr. Hale stopped immediately in the young adult aisle, and was searching through the shelves, a determined look on his face. Finally, seeming to have found what he wanted, he pulled a book off the shelf, and handed it to Stiles.

"'Amy & Roger's Epic Detour'?" Stiles asked, confused. He wasn't sure why his teacher had just handed him this.

"This will make you love contemporary. No ifs, ands or buts. And just to make sure you get it, I'm buying it for you. Think of it as a gift from me to you."

"Jeeze, aren't those the words every booknerd wants to hear," Stiles replied nervously, smiling but still feeling odd around the man. "But-" he began, trying to calm his nerves, "if you are going to be bestowing me with a gift, it seems only natural that I do the same for you. How do you feel about mysteries?"

"I hate them," Mr. Hale replied bluntly, no malice or hate meant in his words, just honesty.

"Well then, I know just the cure. Follow me," Stiles replied. He moved away from the young adult section and began to lead the older man over to the manga and graphic novels section. Stiles wasn't entirely sure if he would find the book he was looking for here. After all, while he loved it and it was still popular and ongoing in Japan, it hadn't been too overly popular here in the U.S. "Aha! Here it is." Stiles reached forward and grabbed volume one of Case Closed from the shelf, and placed it in Mr. Hale's hands.

"'Manga'?" What am I, twelve?" Mr. Hale asked.

"And your snob is beginning to show. Trust me, this series is amazing. I wasn't very crazy about mysteries either until read this manga and started watching the anime. And as for your 'am I twelve' comment, manga and anime aren't only for children, and majority of the popular series are meant for teens and up. It's only here in the U.S. is anything cartoonish and animated deemed childish, which doesn't make much sense since political cartoons, the original cartoons in comic strips, were created by adults for adults."

Mr. Hale let out a resigned sigh, and then looked at Stiles, his blue eyes more potent in the light.

"Fine. I'll read your's, you read mine. After Allegiant, of course," Mr. Hale replied.

"Okay, good," Stiles said with a smile. "So, then let's go pay for this, shall we? I'd say you're lucky, this'll take you maybe an hour or two to read, whereas that book will take me many more."

"Yeah, but in case you didn't notice, the one I'm buying is more than yours, so I'd say we're both even," Mr. Hale replied, a cocky half-grin beginning to emerge on his face.

They went to the counter, which was clearly customers out fast due to the way customers were being let in, and both Stiles and Mr. Hale left within minutes. Once outside, the two exchanged books, and then stood there in each other's company for about a minute in silence.

"Well," Mr. Hale began, "it's a school night, so we should probably both head home already. Do you need a ride?" Mr. Hale asked.

"Nah, got my jeep. But thanks anyway," Stiles replied.

"Oh. Alright then. Well, goodnight, Stiles," Mr. Hale replied, looking the boy in the eye, smiling, and then turned around and left.

"Yeah, same to you sourwolf," Stiles called out after a few seconds.

"Stop calling me that," Mr. Hale yelled back without turning around. Stiles merely smiled to himself, and, holding Allegiant and the book Mr. Hale wanted him to read in his bag, and began walking to his jeep. He had a long way to go before he could go home and start reading. The only problem he had now was, he wasn't sure which book he wanted to read more first.


	13. Chapter 13

**October 2013**

Stiles hadn't been wrong to anticipate finishing _Allegiant_ in a day. He had stuck himself in his room, brought in some bottled waters and energy bars for food and drink, and stayed there from beginning to end.

As soon as it was over, he wasn't sure what to do with himself. He looked at his clock. It was barely 5:49 p.m. Most of his friends would be doing something extracurricular or at home, barely starting the book. He wasn't even sure if any of them had actually started it. Kira was better at starting a book and finishing it fast, but even so, she didn't marathon quite like he did unless it was summer. Stiles would be waiting a few days before Lydia even opened the book. Scott wasn't even done with Insurgent.

Then again, he had a feeling someone he did know would be done with it fairly fast – or at least, he seemed as thrilled about it as he had. It was in that moment that Stiles had wished he had Mr. Hale's number. He could have texted the man, seen where he was, maybe even gushed and "fangasmed" together.

Even if he did have Mr. Hale's number, however, would that really be appropriate? Teachers didn't give out their numbers to students so they could text them about mundane subjects. It was an unspoken rule to only text a teacher regarding an assignment or an incredibly large emergency – nothing else. But, Mr. Hale wasn't really a teacher. Stiles didn't mean it in a bad way, of course; but, Mr. Hale, while being a teacher's assistant, was also still like a student, since he was in college. So wouldn't that make him more like Stiles more so than, for example, Coach Finstock?

Stiles decided, since there wasn't really anyone he could talk to about this, especially since he was still feeling pretty emotional over that scene with that character, he got off his bed, grabbed his keys, and went to his jeep.

* * *

It wasn't like he had planned anywhere specific to go – he just wanted to drive for awhile. He knew he should have been at home doing schoolwork, but he just couldn't sit down and focus on it. And there weren't any edits due yet for the literary magazine, so he didn't have anything he needed to do for his creative writing class either.

Driving was one of the things Stiles had really come to love. He loved being able to control where he was going, when he was going, and not having to be on anybody else's schedule. Before his dad had bought him the jeep, Stiles had been practically holed up in his house – not by choice – unless somebody else was able to pick him up. Now, he had the complete freedom to go out whenever he wanted or stay holed up in his room. And while he mostly performed the latter, he still would venture out every now and again, if only for the fact that he loved driving.

He really liked driving others around as well. Whenever he and Scott would go somewhere, or when there was a group, Stiles liked being behind the wheel. And while he had pleasure in driving around with his friends, it was different from how he felt when he drove around by himself.

Sometimes, if Stiles was feeling incredibly stressed, he would get in his jeep and clear his head. Evidently, sometimes he couldn't do that if he buckled under the pressure and had an attack, or fainted, or went around punching people in the face.

Stiles wasn't even sure what to do about Aiden anymore. Ever since their fight, the boy had been keeping his distance, and had been holding back his insults, but Stiles could sense Aiden's malice for him had only grown.

Still, meetings regarding the literary magazine had been going swimmingly. No more arguing over themes, about who was in control, nothing like that. Stiles took that to be something to put in the plus column of punching Aiden in the face, next to punching him in the face and giving him a black eye and other bruises.

Of course, there was the service he had to do after school. Every Monday and Friday for two hours, but at least it would be over soon when the semester came to an end. It was nearly the end of October. All that would be left is November, which had Thanksgiving break, and December, when he would take semester finals and then go on break again for two weeks.

That also meant that shortly, he'd only have one semester left of high school. One last semester with Scott goofing around, bickering with Lydia, and nerding out with Kira. Stiles didn't know if he was ready to think about that. At least, not yet.

He sighed, took in a deep breath, and began to clear his mind, focusing on the road ahead of him.

* * *

The drive hadn't lasted much longer after that. Turns out, Stiles wasn't the only person who could have a car break down. He saw Lydia calling his cell, and when he answered, she asked him to come pick her and Jackson up because they needed a ride to the nearby autoshop store.

"Why can't Jackson just have it towed?" Stiles asked as he changed directions, heading toward where Lydia and Jackson were.

"Did he really just ask such a stupid question?" Stiles heard Jackson yell back in response, far away from the phone but apparently near enough to eavesdrop.

"You know him. He doesn't really trust people around his car. The only reason he isn't trying to convince me to stay here with the car while he gets his part is A) I wouldn't, so there is no point, and B) It will not start without it," Lydia replied.

Stiles thought he had arrived pretty fast, considering it had only been a few minutes after their phone call, but when Jackson and Lydia got into the jeep, Jackson looked beyond frustrated.

"What took you so long, numb-nuts?"

Stiles ignored the comment and subconsciously kept reminding himself of how much better of a person Jackson was now and the fact that he had been the one to get him and Lydia back together.

* * *

The autoshop wasn't terribly far from where the car had stalled out, but as Stiles learned, Lydia had refused to walk, and also refused to be left alone. So naturally, Stiles was the next best option.

"Ah, second-choice: the words everybody loves to hear," Stiles joked, though Lydia didn't seem that amused by the comment, and Jackson didn't seem to really be paying attention.

They pulled up, and once they were parked, Jackson leapt out of the jeep and practically sprinted into the shop. Lydia rolled her eyes and got out of the car, following after. Stiles was last to enter.

The place smelled like leather. In a way, it was rather like how a shoe store smells, and Stiles had always loved how shoe stores smelled. The place also seemed incredibly dead. There was a cashier in the front, and that was about it. Jackson was in one aisle, quickly browsing over all of the items like they were beneath him while Lydia followed after, looking bored and typing on her phone.

Stiles was about to turn around and go back outside and wait in the jeep until Jackson was down, when, as he was turning around, he ended up nearly ramming into some girl his age who had a number of boxes in her arms. He heard an annoyed grumble emit from her as they slightly collided, and two of the boxes she had fell onto the ground.

Immediately, Stiles bent down and grabbed the boxes that fell, picking them up and holding them in his own hands. As he looked up, he saw the girl's face for the first time, and she was clearly scowling, looking rather annoyed at his presence. Even so, Stiles thought she was rather good looking. She had long black hair, dark brown eyes, tanned skin, and a distinct displeasured expression. There was something oddly familiar about her.

"Hey- I'm, uh, sorry about that," Stiles began, slightly stammering and quickly handing the boxes back.

"Maybe you should watch where you're going," the girl replied, moving away with the boxes. It occurred to Stiles then, as she moved away with the boxes, she was in uniform, and obviously worked here. He walked a little fast to catch up with her.

"Look, I am sorry. I didn't even see you," Stiles replied.

"It's- ugh, it's fine," she replied, shortly. Then, as if rethinking her attitude, quickly added, "I don't mean to be so cross. I just haven't been having the best day. It's still my first week here, and I didn't even want to be working, but my stupid brother said maybe I'd get some 'bearings' on what I want to do if I stayed in one place and had something stable to do for awhile."

"Do I know you? I mean, you don't go to my school," Stiles replied.

"I used to live here when I was little. Stuff happened, I left for awhile. I went on a trip for awhile after high school, then my brother said I needed to leave South America and come here. If I had known why, I would have told him to mind his own business."

"Who's your brother?" Stiles asked, curious. She looked familiar, but Stiles couldn't figure out if it was because he had known her once before or maybe she had some family resemblances going on.

"No one – you probably don't know him. Anyway," she changed the subject, "Who are you?"

"Oh, my name is Stiles," he stated matter-of-factly. When he did, the girl nearly dropped her boxes again. "What's wrong?" Stiles asked once she had a hold of her stuff again.

"Nothing," the girl replied, though Stiles thought she was lying. Her reaction seemed too startled, like she recognized his name.

"Who are you?" Stiles asked.

"My name is Cora."

"Just 'Cora'?"

"You're just 'Stiles', so yeah," the girl replied, and then began walking forward again, heading to the back of the store where only employees were allowed. Stiles stopped abruptly.

"Alright, well, nice to meet you, I guess," Stiles said a little unsure. He thought for a moment that the girl wasn't going to reply, but before she went into the back, she turned and looked at him.

"Hey, you seeing anyone?" Cora asked.

"Um, I-uh, no, I'm not. Why?" Stiles asked.

"You're cute, and frankly, I could use something to do in this town that isn't stocking or listening to my brother drone on and on about his 'wonderful job.' What do you say, wanna go out sometime?"

Stiles wasn't sure how to respond. He hadn't planned on this. Hadn't it only been a month ago when he told Lydia he was fine with being single? Then again, it's not lke he was asking her out. She was asking him out. And it wasn't something Lydia orchestrated, either. There wasn't really any harm in it, at least, that he could tell.

"Yeah, sure," Stiles replied after a few seconds.

"Alright. Give me your number and I'll text you sometime," Cora replied. Stiles did as she asked and gave her his number, and she quickly punched it into her phone, setting the boxes temporarily down on a stand by the door. Once that was done, she put her phone away, grabbed the boxes, and went into the back without another word to Stiles.

"Wow," a voice said behind him, and when Stiles looked around, he saw both Jackson and Lydia standing behind him. It had been Jackson who had spoke. "You seriously need to work on your game."

"He just got asked out, Jackson," Lydia argued.

"Yeah, because he was too oblivious to do it himself. That girl probably felt bad enough to give him a date for that."

"Anybody would be lucky enough to go out with Stiles. I think you're just jealous."

"Jealous? Of what?"

"Not getting hit on anymore."

"The reason I don't get hit on anymore is because practically every girl n ths town is scared of you!"

"They are not scared of me, they respect me. And they should feel fear. I could destroy them in an instant!"

The couple continued arguing like that for awhile, and Stiles was used to t enough to know he could easily sneak off without them noticing. He went outside to his jeep, got in, and waited for them to finish and buy what they needed.

Stiles found himself rather excited. He had been asked out on a date. How long had it been since he had a date? The night with Mr. Hale didn't count, of course. Either way, Stiles couldn't wait. Whoever this Cora girl was, she seemed rather interesting, though Stiles was sure he had seen her somewhere before.


End file.
